Labyrinth III: Crystal Dreams & Amethyst Illusions
by Judith Agrathea
Summary: After 4 years as Queen of Jareth's former kingdom, Sarah's love and inner strength will be tested. Sequel to Labyrinth II: The Lands Beyond. STORY FINISHED. www.rattlebeak.com
1. Prologue

Prologue: Surprises  
  
  
  
There was once an Underground poet that wrote:  
  
A dreamer dreams forever  
  
Of silver and diamond rings  
  
Of servants and of thrones  
  
Romance and other things  
  
  
  
And when the dreamer owns  
  
The wishes that she wants  
  
There may be no more left to dream  
  
No sleep to sweetly haunt  
  
  
  
But little does she know  
  
That there is more to know  
  
There are dreams to go  
  
If she should let go  
  
If she could open her eyes  
  
  
  
And see them.  
  
The same poet wrote, as he sadly looked down upon his hard-earned parchment:  
  
  
  
Oh, childhood action haunting  
  
I have a dream to grasp  
  
I have a question unasked  
  
Of which you are forever daunting  
  
  
  
Oh shadow, evil lurking  
  
I have a life to share  
  
I have a soul laid bare  
  
Of which you once were murking  
  
  
  
Oh life, sweet discorded song  
  
I have a love to give  
  
I have my song to live  
  
Of which he does duly wrong  
  
  
  
Oh sweet, I see you wait  
  
I have to watch afar  
  
I have to watch your star  
  
Here, in this half-gone state  
  
  
  
Oh tomorrow, hovering cloud  
  
I have a new direction  
  
I have a new discretion  
  
And I shall speak aloud  
  
  
  
He blew a wisp of blond hair from his face, then gazed into the fire, determination burning in his eyes. "A man," he said into the flames, "can have a dual nature. Then off it goes, like the sun over the horizon, leaving the plant alone in its darkness. But, if the sun does not return, if it were to fizzle out, the plant must die, as well." He continued his philosophizing, pacing the room, looking with melancholy eyes into the many paintings on his wall. "A woman," he said to a particular painting, "can have her heart's every desire. Then the dreams turn awry, and she is left dreamless. If she goes forever without another dream, her spirit shall surely die."  
  
He sat down at a table, and pulled out a parchment flier. On it were the words, "Sunset City's Annual Independence Festival: Bring Your Self and Your Craft... Surprises are bound to happen. Entrance fee: 30 gold coins."  
  
"What if the woman and the man were to join forces?" he asked the air. Perhaps they could keep each other alive. Then he grunted and added, "I am merely attempting to rationalize the breaking of a vow. But, unlike many years ago, I understand the need for assistance. Perhaps a vow is sometimes meant to be broken. There is one way to find out." Once again, he looked down at the flier.  
  
"Surprises..." he mused. 


	2. Chapter 1: A Dilemma

CHAPTER I: A Dilemma  
  
Murmuring voices filled the wood-paneled room as preparations were made to begin the discussions. Only one person was seated at the circular mahogany table at the center of the candlelit room; her dark brown curls glistened against her deep blue satin and chiffon dress. Eyes of the same blue glowed with apprehension at the coming ceremonies; Sarah was still unused to her position of leadership among the Seven Kingdoms of the Underground. She had been queen of Sunset City--formerly known as the Goblin City--for only four years, and in that relatively short time-frame her meager dreams of becoming an actress had been tossed away and replaced with expectations more spectacular and frightening than she had ever imagined she would encounter.  
  
The room became silent as the rulers of each of the other six kingdoms filtered into the hall. Sarah stood and acknowledged each with a silent nod and smile. First came the tall king of Feline City, a striped cat with a strangely unassuming air, dressed in a robe of tapestry material. Behind him came the queen of the Dwarven Kingdom, who was resplendent in her multi- colored brocade gown and its pastel pearls, and then the clan leader of the Spangores, donning a golden jeweled crest and silver feathers on his head. The faerie queen led the other side of the procession, walking proudly, her gauzy, olive gown trailing almost out of reach of the bluish aura that surrounded her. Next came chief of the beasts, two golden caps at the tips of his horns, and a large gold amulet standing boldly out from his shiny, black fur. Lastly, the king of elves walked in, decked sensibly with rich- colored silken robes, his long brown hair shimmering beneath his circlet.  
  
Each of the six stood behind their oak chairs, awaiting Sarah's speech. Never before had Sarah possessed such stage fright; This is the real thing, she thought nervously. Pulling together every queenly piece of etiquette, every proper phrase in her prepared speech, and every real thing, she thought nervously. Pulling together every queenly piece of etiquette, every proper phrase in her prepared speech, and every eloquent hand motion she knew, she gave a sweeping glance to her guests. With an assured and gentle smile, she began, "Welcome, everyone, to the Council of the Seven Kingdoms. I am delighted that my castle was chosen for this exchange of goodwill, and I hope that, in years to come, more of our smaller neighbors will agree to join us in our coalition of ideas and aide. As you all know, this assembly was planned due to some heretofore undisclosed troubles that kingdoms within this coalition have encountered. We are here to discuss plans of unification for possible battle. I would like everyone in this room to make the agreement not to disclose anything discussed within this room to others without; if you are not willing to keep matters discussed within the strictest confidence, then please exit."  
  
When no one attempted to leave, Sarah continued, "Now that that is taken care of, you may be seated." Chairs shifted as the members of the council were seated. The room smelled of freshly pressed linen and hot cider. Sarah tapped her manicured nails against the table a few times nervously, then laid her hands atop one another elegantly. Her manner became somber as she faced the group. "I would like to get straight to business. I have received news that the elfin kingdom has been experiencing problems, but I was never informed as to the nature of the problems. The only thing that I learned was that these problems were due to an outside force, and since it was a possibility that such problems could affect the rest of the Underground, it seemed plausible to me that a council should be formed so that no kingdom would be alone in facing any type of difficulty. I will now hand the floor over to the elfin king, Eberon, and he will inform us as to what exactly is troubling his people."  
  
Though she remained collected, Sarah felt within the need to sigh. The council seemed as if they had been impressed by her speech, and nodde dtheir understanding as they turned to face the elf. Eberon turned his head slightly, his circlet glimmering beneath the bright candlelight. "Thank you, Your Majesty. There is indeed a great turmoil within our kingdom, though I do not think I will be able to explain it as clearly as one might assume. All I can say is that I am sure our troubles stem from magic, and that this magic is not our own." His long hand spun fluidly about his wrist and the air above the table sparkled with the invocation of a spell. A picture of an elfin village materialized, showing two young male elves quarreling. "This magic appears to act randomly, and its effects have at times been disastrous. Some elves have become bitter and some have become violent... There is no logical explanation for their animosity, for, as you know, we elves are a very peaceful people. We pride ourselves on our wisdom and gaiety toward life... This behavior is..." He shook his head sadly as the two elves in the presentation came to blows. With another move of his fingers, the picture was gone. "Well, it's just unexplainable."  
  
The king of Feline City spoke up. His sharp teeth only showed when he spoke, giving him a menacing appearance at such times. "Well, have you seen any odd occurrences otherwise? Has anyone out of the ordinary appeared in any of the villages?"  
  
Eberon shook his head and gave a wan smile. "Not really..." He stopped abruptly as if considering. "Well, no, we have been seeing a lot of... it really seems a bit unrelated, but we have been seeing a lot of birds. It is unusual for several flocks of birds to make journeys this time of year."  
  
Sarah bolted upright at this knowledge, but only the feline king noticed her startled motion. "What do birds have to do with magic?" said Delina, the Dwarven queen, in a jeering tone.  
  
Eberon clasped his hands together and faced her with a rigid expression. "Sometimes, milady, it is irrelevant when animals behave oddly, but magic and animals are quite connected. I do not think we should dismiss a possibility, no matter how extreme it seems."  
  
Benedick, the Feline king, faced Sarah and addressed the assembly. "I believe her majesty Sarah, has something to say on the matter."  
  
Sarah pulled her hair back nervously and replied, "Yes, I do see that there might be a connection with the birds... As you all are probably aware of, Jareth, the former king of this city, transformed into an owl. He also used birds, as I hear it, to carry out some of his work."  
  
The faerie queen shifted her hazy eyes to Sarah and asked softly, "What kind of things were his birds used for?"  
  
"I am really not certain." Sarah began to feel lost, but did not let her lostness overwhelm her. She scrounged her brains for a clue. "I believe he used them for spying, but I am not sure of any other uses. Even if it were Jareth, I do not see a reason for him to send several flocks of birds to perform any kind of task." Little by little she regained her assuredness, but the issue was one in which she had little desire to participate in conversation.  
  
"After all," Eberon added, "Jareth has not been seen since Sarah defeated him years ago. Chances are that he is dead."  
  
"How do you know that?" the Feline king asked.  
  
The faerie queen held out her hand as she answered. "It is common for a human being to expire after using any magic to an exhaustive amount. The Goblin King was several years old when Sage and the elders released him from the power of the crystals... I believe he had controlled this city for a few decades, before his ousting. Heavens know when he actually took control of it, he could have been older than his appearance. It was the magic that sustained him beyond a normal livelihood, and, when that magic expired, he probably did, as well."  
  
"So, we can rule out Jareth," Benedick said after downing his spiced cider. He placed the chalice onto the table noisily. "That means we have no clue to the cause, and we must figure it out."  
  
The Beast king, Zane, spoke up for the first time that evening. "Beast-men get angry. Beast-men hurt other beast-men." The king's face became wistful. "Friends hurt friends."  
  
Sarah was amazed to see that any beast could say so much at once. Out of all the time she had known Ludo, he had said little more than one or two small sentences at a time.  
  
Benedick seemed to have taken charge of the discussion. "Then, there are other kingdoms facing the same problem. Zane, have you seen any birds in your area? Anything strange?"  
  
The Beast fingered his amulet nervously. "See birds - not seem strange. Always see birds."  
  
"Then that brings us where we were a moment ago." After Benedick's words, the room became uncomfortably silent. A few members of the council took sips of cider, while others became engrossed in consideration of the matter.  
  
Sarah began to stare into the limelight of the candle on her end of the table. Blue wax dribbled down the side of the candle, like a sea-colored teardrop. Her thoughts melted and trickled from her mind in a similar fashion... Everyone had concluded that Jareth was dead, but the bird sightings left her unsure. There was a connection, she was sure of it, and she could not let her hunch go, even if it proved to be a false one. Hopefully she was wrong, and Jareth was not up to his old pranks, if he was not dead. Furthermore, something within her still hoped he was not dead. She had given up the possibility of his return two years ago, and her love for him had dwindled. There were more practical things to be taken care of, without chasing after lost loves. Her highest hope was to be able to ignore her feelings for him, since he was probably never going to return.  
  
Suddenly Sarah realized that someone had been talking to her, so she looked up. It was the Feline king. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What were you saying?"  
  
Delina spoke for him. "He said that maybe we should not get our hopes up."  
  
Sarah shook her head in confusion. "I apologize, I don't quite follow you. Get our hopes up..."  
  
"We should not get our hopes up in believing that the birds are the solution," Benedick explained. "Perhaps they are only reacting to the magic, as are the peoples of the Beast and Elfin Kingdoms."  
  
"That is very likely," the Faerie queen replied. "I will ask my faeries if they have observed any ambivalent behavior in the birds. We will keep an eye on them."  
  
They all spoke for another half an hour on other relevant matters, treaties, and economic agreements. When they had finished the signing of several documents, Sarah stood from her seat and spoke to the council as a whole. "Are there any other matters that need to be presented before this council?" The soft glow of the candles revealed puzzled faces, but no one brought forth any other issues. "Does anyone have anymore suggestions as to the cause of this enigmatic behavior of the beasts and elves?" Silence. "Then, I bid you all to look further into the issue, as will I. I am sure we can come to the answer if we put our heads together in deliberation." Sarah managed to rekindle the warm atmosphere that formerly permeated the room with her smile. "I invite you all to remain in my city for the next week. We will be celebrating our fourth independence day, and great festivities have been planned. They will start tomorrow, and conclude half a fortnight from now with a special competition."  
  
"What kind of competition?" Benedick asked warmly.  
  
Sarah smiled knowingly. "You will see. It is a bit of a surprise."  
  
The Faerie Queen chuckled. "Any surprise you have planned for us, Sarah, is sure to be a pleasant one."  
  
"Perhaps we should surprise Her Majesty for once?" Delina offered in good humor.  
  
A light murmuring laughter filled the room as Eberon said, "I think Sarah has received too many surprises in her lifetime, as Sage has told me."  
  
Sarah laughed and nodded her head in affirmation. "I must agree with you... My life is full of surprises."  
  
"But surprises can be pleasant!" exclaimed Benedick as he nudged Zane.  
  
Knitting her eyebrows, Sarah gazed at them all through slitted eyes. "You are all up to something, I can see it."  
  
Eberon rose and grinned broadly at her. "No, Your Majesty, I do believe we are guiltless in this matter... Maybe you should talk to Sage..."  
  
"Maybe I should ask you," Sarah said with a delighted expression. "Sage won't tell me anything, I am sure."  
  
"Milady," Benedick said, "we do not know what he is up to, anymore than you. We just know Sage, and his pranks prove interesting."  
  
"Oh, I see. You are all his pawns of torture."  
  
Everyone else rose and began to exit the room. As Benedick passed, he patted Sarah on the shoulder. "You know what?" he whispered. "I think you are right." 


	3. Chapter 2: Prince Charming

CHAPTER II: Prince Charming  
  
Sarah walked out of the council room feeling refreshed, despite the matters that had been discussed. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had made a good impression upon herself and her kingdom. For many days she had been preparing speeches for this meeting, and, to her surprise, it had proven to be nothing like she had expected. Everything had been close-knit and friendly, and matters had been quickly taken care of. It was overwhelmingly unlike politics in her world.  
  
Sarah walked down the familiar hallways, and despite its simplicity of design, her blue gown looked very resplendent as it shimmered beneath the glow of the candles in the sconces along the walls. It did not take her long to reach the throne room, where her guests awaited her arrival. Sage was amongst them, and she gave him a lopsided grin. He smiled back, but made no attempt to approach her.  
  
"My servants have seen to bringing your luggage to your respective rooms and you may now retire to them until dinner is served. Feel free to wander around... My home is yours to share. If you get bored, I am sure Sage will be happy to entertain you with some feature of my castle, or maybe even a little humorous game of cat-and- mouse with the queen." Each member of the royal assembly laughed at the teasing of her elfin Royal Advisor.  
  
"That's okay, Your Majesty, we will give him his fair share this week," Benedick said as he whopped Sage on the back. Sage was dramatically shorter than the cat, but his position at the top of the steps to the throne allowed him to put his arm about the feline's shoulders. "Benedick, my feline friend, if you are out for mind- games, you are going to have a more than fair competition... That is, if you're not competing with me."  
  
Benedick laughed heartily. "Very well, elf Sage, you have a duel."  
  
"I suppose that this is a duel to the ...irony," Delina mused warmly.  
  
"Yes, that is what we will call it," Sage said, whacking Benedick across that back in a mocking manner. "And I do believe Benedick has met his match." Benedick regained his balance and began the journey to his chambers. "I would watch my back, if I were you, Sage."  
  
"No, my dear friend, I will watch your back, instead."  
  
The room broke out into uproarious laughter. The laughter continued for some time, and Benedick finally discontinued his travels and turned around. "What's so funny?" he demanded.  
  
Sarah tried to suppress her laughter, and finally managed, "Um, Benedick, perhaps you should watch your back, as well."  
  
It did not take the cat long to find the source of their mirth; upon his back Sage had placed a sign reading "Please kick me into the Bog of Eternal Stench." He removed it dramatically, wadded it up, and threw it so that it hit Sage in the chest. "Ha, ha," he said as he continued his ascension of the stairs. "Two can play at that game."  
  
Sage walked down the stairs, and Sarah saw the hidden meaning in Benedick's words. She laughed all the harder, and soon everyone was joining her.  
  
"I think I know what is going on," Sage said, chuckling. He reached around and pulled off a sign that said, "Please kick me into an oubliette."  
  
"Perhaps Benedick and I are too well matched," Sage said as he threw the paper at Benedick's retreating figure. "I guess I will have to revise my strategy."  
  
Finally everyone began to part and make the trips to their rooms. Sarah said her good-byes and relaxed in her throne once everyone was gone. Only Sage remained and he approached her, beaming. "Well, how did it go?"  
  
"It was fantastic, Sage. I really think I made an impression."  
  
"It would seem that way." He patted her on the knee. "They are all enjoying themselves. Tomorrow, they will enjoy themselves more, I should think. I just hope that pressing matters do not weigh too heavily on the celebration."  
  
"It will be a difficult balance," Sarah agreed. "During half of their stay, we will have to brainstorm the cause of this disturbance."  
  
"Yes, Eberon has spoken to me of it. You know, Sarah, it is strange to me."  
  
"What?"  
  
Sage seated himself in the chair at the side of her throne. "Eberon has been much kinder to me since you and I became such close friends. His overweening kindness causes me much discomfort..."  
  
Sarah sat upright in her throne. Its silver and green padding expanded with the loss of her weight. "I don't understand why his behavior would cause you discomfort. You two seemed to be such good friends."  
  
"Eberon and I have a past, Sarah. Perhaps, someday, I will tell you the story."  
  
"Why not now? I am listening."  
  
The candlelight in the room shone green through the emerald candlabras, causing Sage's pallid complexion to take on an otherworldly radiance. "Not now, because there is no need for sadness. Some serious matters should wait, for we have enough of them to handle." Sage took Sarah's hands and smiled. "You have a very big day tomorrow, and everyone must enjoy it. Birds and fighting beasts and sad stories can wait. Tomorrow is a day of reflection of the past and enjoyment of the present."  
  
"And surprises..."  
  
"Yes, everyone will really enjoy your surprise."  
  
Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not talking about that surprise, Sage. What are you up to?"  
  
"That, as all other matters we have discussed, must wait until tomorrow."  
  
"That would be the nature of a surprise, wouldn't it?"  
  
"Of course, milady." He winked at her and headed up the stairs. "Get some rest before dinner..."  
  
"You know very well I won't!" she exclaimed while he walked away. He merely acknowledged her with a wave of his hand.  
  
Sarah rose from the throne, and walked languidly across the stone tiles. She soaked in her environment, as if seeing it for the first time in a century, and wondered at how she had become the queen of such a fine kingdom. Only in her fantasies had she ever possessed such richness in lifestyle, and now her fantasy was reality, while her former reality was as if a passing dream. Long ago Jareth had offered his crystals to her, crystals that would bring her hopes and dreams... Dreams that would be shadowed by the debt of a slave, always needing to praise and pet her master's ego in order to receive more truthless fantasy. Sarah had not fallen into that trap, and had been blessed for her meager wisdom. Now she lived in her own perfect home, and ruled in a land where magic was the ever- present sun through her windows. She sighed deeply, sliding the tips of her fingers along the cool, stone walls.  
  
As she passed through the courtyard, the evening sky washed her face in pale reds and purples. The moon was barely visible through the translucent colors of the canopy, its oval shape revealing its journey to full maturity. A fountain gurgled beside her and the golden glow of candles showed from various open windows, lighting up balconies that held flowers and chairs. Sarah smiled when she saw Isabelle leaning on the banister of her own balcony, her hair teased by the cool breezes, and her eyes distant in thought.  
  
Sarah went up the stairs and knocked on Isabelle's door. After a few moments the young woman pulled it ajar, a grin teasing her fair face upon the sight of Sarah. She invited her in, then walked to the dresser, where she began grooming for that night's meal.  
  
"How are you doing, today?" Sarah asked as she seated herself in a chair by the hearth.  
  
Isabelle brushed out her long, brown hair before the mirror. "I feel better."  
  
"Are you sure? You don't have to pretend for me."  
  
"Well, I didn't say I was in the best possible spirits, but I am not nearly as depressed as yesterday."  
  
Sarah watched Isabelle in silence a few moments. Everything about Isabelle gave Sarah a vague nostalgic feeling, a longing for days as a child. This feeling was ironic, because Isabelle was a young woman, no traces of childhood in her face. It is amazing how much we look alike, Sarah thought, for the hundredth time. Surely there was a logical explanation for their uncanny similarity, but Sarah was not aware of any. No, she did not turn out to be as much like her as her twin Leah, but Sarah could place photos of each of them from when they were fifteen side-by-side, and not tell the difference. It felt strange having multiple copies of herself walking through the castle, so to speak.  
  
Sarah gripped the arms of the chair and inhaled the flowery aromas of Isabelle's room. "So, are you ready for tomorrow?"  
  
Isabelle's face lit up immediately; she spun on her heel, and her skirt twirled about her ankles. "Oh, yes!! Tell me what you have planned, Sarah!"  
  
Sarah sat up in the wooden chair and gazed at Isabelle with pondering eyes. Lifting her finger to her chin, she said, "Well, that was an abrupt change."  
  
"Yes, I know, I'm fickle. But I do so much like festivals!!" Her eyes sparkled suddenly, and her brush lay forgotten on her dresser as she sat on her bed.  
  
"Well, I have already told you what I have planned, Isabelle. What can I tell you, without telling about my surprises?" A smirk played on Sarah's lips.  
  
"You could tell me about them... You know I would keep them to myself." When Sarah shook her head, Isabelle grabbed her hands and cried, "Oh, please!! I can't take it anymore!"  
  
With a playful gesture, Sarah pushed Isabelle away and laughed. "Well, I would almost think you were going to die by the way you are acting!"  
  
"Yes, I most definitely will!" Isabelle chuckled, her aristocratic accent tinkling elegantly as she did so. "I love surprises! Yet, good gracious, how I hate them!"  
  
Sarah rose and examined herself in the mirror as she spoke. "I hate them, too... Sage is playing a little game with me. I couldn't possibly figure out what he is conjuring."  
  
"Sage?" Isabelle laughed. "He is always about something mischievous. Maybe he is playing the matchmaker."  
  
Sarah grinned as she spruced up her hair. "That would be something... As if Sage could possibly find a man to suit my needs."  
  
"Oh, your needs, are they? So, you have devised a long list of perfections for this person, have you?" She rolled over on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. "I think there must not be a man out there for you, considering how persnickety you are about the sex."  
  
"Yes, I do have a long list that I revise from time-to-time..."  
  
"And, what does this list entail?"  
  
Sarah laughed as if she had heard the funniest thing in her life. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
With a dramatic clearing of her throat, Sarah began her inventory. "Well, he must, for one, be exceedingly charming, mysterious, but also open with his emotions. His heart must be well-placed, and he must be concerned over the same type things as I am. Of course, he will be handsome, and he will be engrossed with his own interests while being interested in mine. He must love me with all of his heart, and, finally, he must never leave me." She emphasized the last statement with a sober glance at her side.  
  
"Is that all? I thought it would be worse than that... " Isabelle sat up on her bed and gesticulated wildly as she spoke, just as she had learned from being around Sarah. "You will not make him scrub your pans," she scrubbed her pillow, "sweep your floor, or kiss your feet? I am amazed at your lack of practicality."  
  
"Oh, and you talk! You are loved by every boy and man here, so you may demand such things. I have to be practical, or I will end up being an old maid. You might very well learn from my practicality, the way you lock yourself away from the poor boys who write poetry at one accidental glance from you."  
  
Isabelle seemed slightly disgusted with the topic and immediately said, "Enough about that... Show me what you will do when prince charming arrives!"  
  
Hand swooping toward her head, Sarah replied in a weary tone, "Oh, must I? I have acted enough for one evening."  
  
"Well, if Sage is preparing such a surprise, you must be prepared."  
  
"Your logic astounds me, but I am really not up to it. I don't expect that prince charming will show his glistening eyes tomorrow."  
  
Isabelle was adamant. "Oh, be a sport!"  
  
Sarah sighed teasingly and rose from her chair. "Oh, all right. But you must leave me alone about my surprise, until I reveal it. Deal?"  
  
"Yes, I will, I promise. Now, Prince Charming asks you to dance. What will you say?"  
  
With an elegant gesture, Sarah rose her hand to her imaginary suitor. "Well, I would be most honored..." Sarah turned to look at Isabelle. "Is he a 'Your Highness' or 'Sire' or 'Your Knightship' do you think?"  
  
Rolling her eyes about as if Sarah had just interrupted Hamlet's soliloquy to talk about shoes, Isabelle replied, "Oh, 'Your Highness,' if you must. Continue!"  
  
  
  
"Your Highness is very charming," she said as she danced about the room. She pretended to blush and laughed at an imaginary comment. "Oh, you are so witty! You must talk to my court jester, Sage, sometime!!"  
  
Isabelle rolled about her bed in frivolous laughter at the remark about Sarah's Royal Advisor, Sage. He probably would not let Sarah forget it for months, if he heard about it.  
  
"So, Your Highness," Sarah continued, "please tell me about yourself." An ear to the air, Sarah nodded her head emphatically at silence. "Oh, yes, I do so much love silly little girls.... I know one; her name is Isabelle."  
  
Isabelle bolted upright and gripped the edge of the bedspread, her face full of mock injury. "Sarah!"  
  
"Yes, she is such a pretty thing, and has every boy wrapped about her finger... Maybe, if she was queen, she might make all the boys take classes on etiquette and mind their mothers."  
  
"You devil!" Isabelle jumped up from the bed, laughing madly, and grabbed Sarah's outstretched hands. Confusion gripped Sarah's face as she exclaimed, "Why, Your Highness, what has happened to you? You look  
  
exactly like Isabelle!! Oh, my charming prince, thou hast deserted me!!!" The tragic conclusion to Sarah's brief play having been made, she eluded Isabelle's grasp and mocked a swoon to the bed. "Oh, I shall not be able to live..."  
  
"You are absolutely a devil!" Still convulsing with laughter, Isabelle sat next to Sarah and shoved her.  
  
"No, I am absolutely tired.... I think I shall retire to my chambers before insanity completes its grip about me... Oh, swoon, someday my prince shall come!!" 


	4. Chapter 3: A Good Friend

CHAPTER III: A Good Friend  
  
After the little performance in Isabelle's room, Sarah retired to her chambers for a couple hours rest. As she made her way to her room, she stopped by Hoggle's study. She poked her head in the crack in the door, and saw the dwarf grueling over a manuscript. The soft candlelight softened his rough features.  
  
"Busy at work, I see," Sarah exclaimed, startling him so that he dropped his pen.  
  
"You shouldn't be sneakin' up on folks like that!" he replied with thinly veiled irritation.  
  
Without asking permission, Sarah seated herself in the plush chair that faced his desk. "Pardon me... I didn't realize you were so engrossed. What are you working on?"  
  
Hoggle closed the book and raised it so that she could see the cover. It was old and dusty, like most books from the castle library, and said in gold letters, Guide to Locks and Doors. "It's very fascinatin'," Hoggle said with a smile. "Tells everything 'bout how locks work."  
  
Sarah seemed amused. "Last week it was, How to Make Your Own Machines. You are quite an ardent student, of late. Taking after your father?"  
  
Hoggle grunted. "Naw, he just has book-smarts. I plan to put what I learn to use. Not that he isn't useful, but I got my own way of doin' things."  
  
Hands behind her head, Sarah said, "Is he still giving you a hard time about you not choosing to walk in his footsteps?"  
  
"Whaddya think?" He picked his pen back up and began to gaze at the book. "Of course 'e is. Though, he's at least talking to me. Not that I want to talk to him... He's so sour all the time. You think I'm bad... I can't even stand my father."  
  
Sarah grinned sardonically. "I know how your father is. I think he's a character, though, if you ask me."  
  
"Yeah, to you he is. When you see him, you don't have to deal with'm fer hours on end. It's 'Hoggle Jr., you need to do this,' or, 'Hoggle Jr., if you had done what I told you years ago and not got hooked up with that Jareth character, you wouldn't be such a loser.' Well, I'll show him. At least I ain't stuck up in that study of his all day long, coughing from the dust..."  
  
"Well, Hoggle, your father does love you. He's still hurt by you abandoning him for Jareth. I know that you have changed, but it will take your father time to heal from that. Plus, he's having to deal with the fact that his years are quickly dwindling. I think he's frightened, Hoggle."  
  
Hoggle put down his pen and stared down at the blotter on his desk for some moments. A penetrating silence filled the room, and a single tear trickled down Hoggle's cheek. "I know it," Hoggle finally said with some difficulty. "I'm scared for him. And it kills me that I wasted so many years with that snake, Jareth. My father needed me, and I wadn't there for'im."  
  
Sarah sat up, but held back the urge to embrace Hoggle. She knew how his pride welled up when he was observed being emotional. "Hoggle," she began softly, "you made an honest mistake. It kills me to see you like this, and all because of Jareth's false promises. I think everyone in this castle has had their fair share of punishment from falling for those promises. Don't let it bother you too much; you still have some time with your father, and you need to take advantage of it."  
  
A heavy sigh fell from Hoggle's swelled lips. "You're right, missy." He looked up at Sarah, and smiled. "Thank you fer bein' such a good friend to me, Sarah. Ain't no one I can trust like you."  
  
Sarah bent over and patted his hand. "That's what I'm here for, Hoggle. We stick together, no matter what, right?"  
  
"You bet."  
  
With the resolution of yet another problem, Sarah rose and began to leave. She turned and added, almost as an afterthought, "By the way, have you already provided the transportation for your parents so that they can participate in tomorrow's celebration?"  
  
"Yeah," Hoggle said, grunting again. "They're comin', though I'm sure my father'll be complainin' about the trip for hours once he gets here."  
  
Sarah chuckled. "He probably will. Hey, don't study too hard. I want you to be jovial at dinner."  
  
"Jovial? You're talkin' to me, right? You must be outta yer mind." 


	5. Chapter 4: Fairytales

CHAPTER IV: Fairytales  
  
  
  
As Sarah walked down the hall toward her room, a young part-human, part- bird male raced up to Sarah, his feathered hair swooping close to his head, and numerous papers in his hands. His name was Damion; he was Sarah's keeper of affairs, and he always liked to wait for Sarah by her chambers, just as she was getting ready to rest. His air had always been frantic, and he would often bring trivial manners before her at one o'clock in the morning, bemoaning them as if they were the end of the world as he knew it. Sarah tried her utmost not to let his over-achievement disturb her, and she stopped before her door as he raced toward her, attempting to choke down the sigh that fought to escape from her throat.  
  
"Yes, Damion?" she managed to say with forced politeness.  
  
"Your Highness, I have a few things to discuss with you," he said, his high- pitched voice quivering nervously.  
  
"Certainly, Damion," she replied as she put her hand on his shoulder. It was in such situations that her skills as an actress saved her from mental breakdown. "But, would you mind telling me these things as I travel to my room? I am getting ready for a short nap."  
  
"Oh, yes," he said, flushing red from embarrassment. Sarah wasn't sure if his discomfort stemmed from her allowing him to follow her into her bedroom, or his intrusion upon her rest. "I just felt that I should bring some matters to your attention... I am sorry if I am interrupting your rest."  
  
"Oh, really, I don't mind, just please make it as brief as possible. I apologize if it seems a bit selfish to you, but I would like to relax a little for the next two weeks.... I don't want to be short with you, I am just tired."  
  
"Oh, of course, you must be." He walked with her and fidgeted with the papers in his hand, as if he was battling with the need to be polite and the need to show the papers to her. "If I may..."  
  
"Yes, certainly," she said, realizing the weary tone in her voice. As they traveled, she stared at the wall opposite Damion, and seemed not to hear him.  
  
"Well, first, the weaver's guild is desperate for a new loom for their display tomorrow. It seems that one of the younger members broke the one they had, and they were wanting to borrow some funds from the treasury to purchase one."  
  
"Yes," Sarah said absentmindedly, "yes, certainly, tell them that they may borrow the necessary funds." She forced herself to focus as her bedroom door came into view. "Make it clear that profits from their booth sales at the festival may first go to pay any other bills, but must then begin to be used, even if only fractionally, to pay the treasury back. I don't mind loaning the money, for I know they are honest, but our funds are already low from the renovations on the Labyrinth."  
  
"I have made note of it," he replied as he scribbled something on the paper. "Oh, and while I am speaking of the booths, there is a fellow who has just come in town who wants to know if he may set a booth up at the festival."  
  
Sarah frowned. "I don't know... It is awful late. What type creature is he?'  
  
"He is human, your majesty."  
  
Sarah sighed, and felt compelled to submit, just to get it off her shoulders. "What type of booth is it?"  
  
"He is an artist."  
  
They reached the door, and Sarah put her hand on the handle. An artist, she thought. That is very intriguing. Yet, practicality comes before intrigue. "Is he prepared to pay the fee?"  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty. He seems to be quite a nice fellow... If it were me, I would have no qualms about admitting him."  
  
Sarah lowered her head and considered the matter for a moment. As she did, Damion ruffled the papers with his stubby, fuzzy fingers. She finally looked up at him. "Yes, I suppose so. I don't really see any harm in it. Just make sure there's room, first."  
  
Sarah opened the door to her room, looking at Damion for another comment. All she could think of doing was dropping into bed for infinity.... The midnight oil had burned to mere fumes the evening before, for she had been preparing for the day's meeting and other various things involved with the festival till the wee hours of morning. With a languid gaze she turned into her room. What awaited her brought forth a gasp from her lips.  
  
Damion continued talking business, but Sarah did not hear him. Throughout her room, crowding every tabletop, every dresser, every desk, even the floor, were half a hundred vases of flowers. Sweet perfumes replaced the air, intoxicating and mystical. Sarah stumbled into the candelit room, her face drawn in shock.  
  
"Your majesty, as I was saying--" Damion stopped short when he entered the room. His mouth stood ajar, as well, and he had stopped his agitated movement of the papers.  
  
Many feelings rushed upon her at once. Timeless days of rolling about her bed restlessly as she imagined the knights who would kill dragons for her; hours of reading D.H. Lawrence novels at the nook in the poplar tree; the long, exulting gazes at the handsome, quiet boy in her science class. Then she saw her perilous journeys into the Underground, the menacing and resplendent looks of Jareth, the city that had become hers, the fantasy that had come from something other than the reading of fairytales. Oh, how many times she had been told that she needed to get her head out of the clouds!! How many times she had heard the words, "Life is not a fairytale, Sarah, so stop treating it like one." Just as she had started believing it, she had become queen of Sunset City. Never in her four years as ruler had she thought things could get any better. The sight of the flowers assured her that they could.  
  
Sarah finally found her voice. "Sage!! It must be!! But where did he get all of these beautiful flowers?" She pulled back the curtain of her bed, and found her velvet blankets laden with rose petals of all colors. "Oh, good God, a bed of roses!! You would think he was courting me!"  
  
Suddenly, a small, joyous laugh escaped from her mouth. She fell onto the bed, tossing the petals about her and bringing them to her face to suffocate herself in their sweet aromas. "Well, I can truly say that I have been treated in all aspects like royalty!! A bed of roses, would you believe it?" She laughed again, and buried her face in the pillows.  
  
The bird-like young man seemed to be uncomfortable about being present during this odd behavior on the part of his queen. "Would you like me to get him?" he said, obviously trying to escape the strangeness of the situation.  
  
Sarah bolted upright and smiled at him. "Oh, I would so much like to talk to him, but I doubt he's anywhere around..." She gave another wondering gaze about her room and continued in a quiet voice, as if she were speaking to herself, "He's sure to be very far away from here, I can guarantee it. Sage knows the meaning of a hasty retreat." Abruptly, Sarah remembered the presence of her council-member and said, "No, don't trouble yourself over it. You may go, if that is all..."  
  
He drew the papers to his chest, staring oddly at her over his spectacles. "Yes, I think I will... I will discuss the other things with you after dinner."  
  
"Yes, that would be great. I will be more refreshed by then."  
  
Without any other words, Damion bowed and exited the chamber, closing the door behind himself a bit too hurriedly. Sarah followed his movement dumbly, then let her eyes drift about the room and its sunflowers, azaleas, roses, tulips, snapdragons, baby's breath, and other various exotic blooms. If Sage was behind all of this, she might be inclined to believe that he was desperately in love with her. What a strange thought!! And, if it wasn't Sage, who in the world could it be? 


	6. Chapter 5: No Harm

CHAPTER V: No Harm  
  
Dinner was being readied for serving as the guests chattered in groups about the hall preceding the dining room. The chamber was a small ballroom, only designed for intimate parties with small guest lists. It was crowded with creatures of all sorts: faeries, fieries, beasts, elves, half-elves, dwarves, felines, humans, canines, and all other exotic mixtures of beings. Social level nor bias hindered the jovial atmosphere, and it seemed that the laughter reached somewhere into the tune of the band that was playing, grabbed the notes and squeezed them so hard that they became more violent with life. Dimly lit and luxurious in its tapestries, stained-glass windows, Persian rugs and crystal ornaments, the room glowed with the otherworldly decadence of the small chandelier that swung high above the heads of those in the crowd, tinkling with this motion caused by body heat and flames. Every creature was decked in its finest, women sparkled with witticism and beauty, and men with charm and the eloquence that exudes from healthy candor.  
  
Sarah made her way through this group, her blue silk gown, if viewed from above, looking as if it were parting the Red Sea. Compliments and greetings fell from her lipsticked purple mouth, the outline of which was so fine that one might swear her lips were naturally so bold. When she spoke, the curled tufts of hair that had not been gathered into the French bun atop her head flurried beneath her warm breath. Each man turned his head appreciatively at the queen's alabaster shoulders, which protruded above the sea-blue silken puffs of her brocade gown. An elegant, manicured hand lay delicately atop her breast, the pink nails of which shone as brightly as the diamonds in the brooch that held together the ends of her taffeta cape. Her beauty held everyone captive, yet did not hold captive in Sarah that pride which lends itself to ugliness. Lovely, yet unaware of her loveliness, Sarah took great pains to make every guest feel welcomed, treating man no less than woman, child equally respected as adult.  
  
Somewhere in the crowd, a short man of thirty looked through the crowd as Sarah's face became apparent above it. He turned his head this way and that, trying to keep her beauty within his sight. His companion, who looked about the same age, but did not possess the awkwardness of one who is ignorant of social graces during a social event, gazed coolly at the same subject as his friend, making no attempts to regain vision when the queen's face was concealed by the crowd, but seeming as if his lack of worry over the matter did not stem from his lack of interest in it. Thin lips smiled knowingly as he watched, and his healthy, olive complexion glowed gold beneath the aura of a nearby candle.  
  
"Who is that?" asked his friend, who whistled. His gesture did not seem to be one of degradation, but one of custom. "Quite a perty lass."  
  
The man beside him crossed his arms, wrinkling the stately but unassuming jacket he wore. A smile appeared between his trimmed mustache and goatee. "You have never seen the queen?" he asked, a thinly veiled humor seeping into his voice.  
  
"What, and you have?" the man grunted, obviously familiar with his friend's behaviors. "She doesn't go prancin' about the kingdom, I can assure you."  
  
"I have seen her..." he said, his eyes hazing over in thought as his voice drifted off to almost a whisper, "...here and there."  
  
"What was that?" the short man asked roughly, straining his ears to hear over the noise in the room.  
  
"Nothing." He uncrossed his arms, and his blond hair, tapered but smooth, came just below his chin, covering his slightly pointed ears.  
  
"You're lucky they let us set up shop here, considering how late we were in applying for booth space," the shorter man commented, his red moustache quivering as he grunted at a sudden thought. "Seeing your little 'splurge' yesterday, we're going to have to get some serious funds together."  
  
The blond-headed man sighed impatiently. "Oh, do be quiet about that. I have assured you, it will be no problem. I have money stashed; you know I am prepared for anything." A serving-woman passed by with a tray of light liquors, and his friend took a champagne glass.  
  
"Would you like one?" he asked his refined companion.  
  
The tall man waved a slender hand at the offer. "No, best to do without."  
  
"But what harm can it do?"  
  
Again, he denied the offer. "A world," he answered, "if you have a record for becoming overly driven in the presence of any type liquor."  
  
"Any type liquor?" He chuckled brashly. "Like women?"  
  
The other man stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "You can make that comparison, if you so choose."  
  
The stout man laughed as he brought the glass to his lips. "Yeah, that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that big bunch of--"  
  
A hand came forth to silence him. The great doors to the dining hall began to open, and the crowd gushed in. "Dinner's begun. Please, let's not speak anymore of it. You know I am already anxious because of it, and you only make it worse with your constant nagging."  
  
"Pardon me, Your Highness," his friend replied sarcastically as he scratched his copper hair in confusion at the other man's behavior.  
  
The blond-headed man merely gazed at him irritably with intense, green eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah had finally found Sage amidst the mass of bodies, and managed to get past all of the little cliques without much conversation. There was no time to speak with him, but she gave him a knowing smile, to which he replied by slipping his arm about hers. The elf was only as high as her shoulder, and she could not make out if he was grinning, or not. Once they had reached the head of the crowd, Sarah bid the servants open the doors. Everyone entered in an orderly fashion and stood behind their respective seats, the ones at the front of the room being reserved for Sarah, Sage, Damion, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and the kings and queens of the visiting realms. Sarah noticed that one other seat had been reserved to her left, but the table bore no name card. She wondered how such an obvious mistake could have been made.  
  
While the guests were coming to order, Sarah turned to Sage and said, "It's a pity Leah could not be here. I was hoping she wouldn't have to miss this."  
  
Sage nodded in sober affirmation. "You are right... I miss her presence."  
  
"Why is there not a card here?" she asked off-handishly.  
  
The elf's brow wrinkled in thought. "I honestly do not know... Maybe it was a mistake."  
  
Sarah frowned uncertainly, but did not let it worry her. "Perhaps."  
  
The dining hall was dimly lit, as the ballroom, and it gave a somber, hushed, and opulent air to the feast. A painting of Sarah was high on the wall above her head; it was the same painting that Jareth had once owned, and depicted Sarah at 15, wearing the Cinderella-like gown that she had also worn while dancing with him in the mystical realm of his crystals. It was a remarkable piece of work, and Sarah had been hesitant to rid of it, even though she was wary of keeping any reminders of Jareth in the castle. She had decided to put the value of art above the value of bitterness, and had never regretted her decision.  
  
Upon the table there were culinary delights galore: chicken, fish, and steaks, cooked in every way imaginable; corn, peas, vegetable stews, and fresh salads; creamy clam chowders and steaming broths with rice; cider, wine, champagne, grape juice, cream, brew, punch, and spirits; noodle casseroles, lasagne, and meaty pies; merangue pies with strawberry relish, dripping fudge brownies, flaky pastries filled with creme, towering angel cakes and oozing apple pies; and every fruit custard known to man. The food smells mingled with the perfumes and colognes, and made Sarah suddenly dizzy with anticipation.  
  
The large group came to order, and Sarah clinked her fork against a champagne glass. Murmers ceased as the queen prepared to make her speech.  
  
Sarah gave everyone a sweeping glance and gracious smile before beginning. "Guests....friends..... I'd like to welcome you to my castle during this very special fortnight. Tomorrow will be the fourth anniversary of the first day that began this kingdom's independence. As you probably already know by now, that was the first day of the journey that the former king, Jareth sent me on the journey that brought me knowledge of a special talisman and gave me the opportunity to free the city of its curse. I do not hold myself responsible for this city's freedom; the heavens willed it that my presence should prove useful-- I did not plan such a thing on my own."  
  
Sage put his hand on her arm and laughed. "Oh, she is so modest!" The guests replied with a reverberating chuckle.  
  
Sarah smiled at her elfin companion, then replied, "Well, say what you like, but I am being honest." Her face darkened a moment in sadness, and she finally continued, "I would like to take this opportunity to make a few comments. Perhaps this is not the time or place, but I feel it is relevant." She clasped her hands together before her. "Four years ago I did battle with Jareth, the Goblin King. During that time I was very uncertain of my opinion of him; at times I despised him, at others I pitied him. Strangely enough, I find myself thinking now that, if I had never encountered him, I would never have arrived here. This is my true home, and it has been waiting here for several years without my knowledge. Jareth offered me my hopes and dreams many years ago... and I got them. Yesterday, the possibility of his death was brought to my knowledge. I found myself wondering what he would be doing if he were not." Sarah began to realize that she was going off the main subject. There was more on her mind than she planned to reveal, but she was unconsciously laying out her complete thoughts. It was unprofessional, not to mention the fact that Jareth might even be there that very moment! Ha! What a thought! Of course, he was most likely dead, as Benedick had said. Her little jokes of irony to herself were a bit more unsettling than she wished them to be sometimes. "Well, to make a long story short, I have, after nine years of seething dislike, forgiven Jareth for his crimes. Something tells me that I must... In his own odd way, Jareth brought something new into all of our lives... My main point in revealing this is such: I will fight any danger to our kingdom to death, if need be, whether it is raging fires or Goblin Kings. But, I can forgive. Up until now, there have been a few kingdoms denied entrance into our treaties... Henceforth, despite their former actions, I open my doors to them. This will not be a kingdom of bias, even if it is a bias caused by an instinctive need to protect the kingdom. My arms are wide open to everyone, and I want it to eventually be the same all over the Underground."  
  
Her speech received great applause. All eyes gazed reverently upon her and upon her kindness. An Irish-looking man rose his glass and exclaimed, "A toast to Her Majesty, the queen!!"  
  
Every creature raised their glass and answered, "Hear, hear!" before sipping their wine. Sarah joined them, then motioned for everyone to be seated. Noise once again echoed throughout the hall as conversation and eating began. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Sage glancing nervously at the clock, and then at the empty seat at the table. He was up to something, she was sure of it.  
  
"That was a marvelous speech," Sage commented as he placed his napkin in his lap. "It was also wonderful that you put your feelings out in the open; many people were wondering your opinion on each matter you discussed. Just make sure you are still careful when opening your arms to everyone; some will take advantage of your kindness."  
  
Sarah swallowed a bit of her salad before answering, "Yes, I know what you mean. It is hard for me to be wise about decisions and still be idealistic. It's a very difficult balance."  
  
"You are not expected to balance it completely; only the yen and the yang are equal in weight. You will learn a healthy balance... And there are people who care deeply about your success, to help make your falls softer and your successes more grand. You are truly lucky; there are not many rulers with those blessings."  
  
Sarah put her hand upon Sage's. "Yes, you are right... And you have been so kind to me." She winked at him. "Maybe too kind."  
  
He smiled at her. "What do you mean, dear Sarah? You could not possibly know about my surprise yet."  
  
Sarah laughed. "Haha! I knew it was you!"  
  
Suddenly Sage appeared confused. "You knew it was me? Doing what? I have not revealed my surprise yet... My surprise is a little late."  
  
With an exaggerated motion, Sarah shook an accusing finger at the elf. "Don't play coy with me. I know it was you."  
  
"Honestly, Sarah, I do not know what you are talking about."  
  
Sarah analyzed him and realized he was telling the truth. "You didn't put all of those flowers in my room? If it wasn't you, then who was it?"  
  
"Flowers?"  
  
Taking a sip of her wine, Sarah soon replied, "Yes, I came to my room for a nap, and found my room filled with vases of flowers. There were flower petals all over my bed, as if someone were wooing me."  
  
"Wooing you? I wonder how they got in without being seen."  
  
Sarah frowned. "Yes, it does trouble me."  
  
Abruptly, a knowing look came across Sage's countenance. "Well, of all the-- "  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He quickly gained his composure and replied, "Oh, nothing."  
  
"You can't do that to me!"  
  
He winked at her and said, "Ah, but I can. And I must... it will be more fun this way, you shall see."  
  
"It will be fun for you. It is torture for me."  
  
"There will be something soon to occupy your mind."  
  
Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Would it have anything to do with that empty chair?"  
  
"Ah, but you are too smart for me!!" Sage chuckled, then took a swig of his wine. "My dear Sarah, I am almost sorry it was not I who put those flowers in your room! Your intelligence and charm are worth the wooing."  
  
She took his hands between hers. "You are the charmer, old friend."  
  
* * *  
  
"You are quite the fool, Granen," the blond-headed man said irritably to his Irish friend. "You have had too much to drink. Your brain is one great sponge, and soaks up any liquor as if it were sea-water."  
  
Granen gave him a heedless grin and nudged him. "No harm'n gettin' the pos'tive attentions of th'queen. I rather like'er."  
  
His companion put down his eating utensils and faced Granen with frowning concentration. "You do not even know her."  
  
"I know all I need to know," the man replied boldly. "She's perty, and she's got good etiquette. That makes a real woman'n my part'o the country."  
  
"Well, I daresay, it takes much more than that to make a real woman. And twice that to make a good queen." The gentleman peered into the distance with a pondering expression. "You would be more respected by women if you showed them respect for something other than their beauty or social charms."  
  
"Oh, and you're to talk!" Granen exclaimed in a loud whisper. "What women have you got to prove yer point? Not one! And I haven't seen you with one yet! Not one in the three years you'n I have gone a'travelin' together."  
  
"I am saving myself for the right woman."  
  
Granen grunted. "Sure, as if'n you gone 'round lookin' for'er."  
  
"I have already found her."  
  
A surprised look took grip of the Irishman's features. "Where?"  
  
"She's close by." His eyes drifted to the end of the table.  
  
Granen nearly spit out his food in his mirth. "The Queen? Hah! You're a fine joker!! As if'n she'd give you the time'o day!"  
  
He put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully and leaned forward. "One can hope, my friend... One can hope."  
  
* * *  
  
Sir Dydimus looked up from his concentrated shoveling of food and declared, "Your Majesty, this is the finest meal I hath eaten in all of my royal feasts. I commend your chefs."  
  
"Thank you, Sir," Sarah answered with a nod of her head.  
  
A grunt came from Hoggle's direction. "As if you've been to a million feasts."  
  
"Why, I would have you know, my brother, I have been to twenty-nine such feasts!" Sir Didymus replied, unaffected. "The last I attended was in my honour!"  
  
A disbelieving, yet interested look took ahold of Hoggle's features. "Whad'you do?"  
  
The fox seemed pleased to have the opportunity to tell a tale. "It was a Fiery feast... Though, they are quite a trying lot, but they are also quite amiable. One of them lost his head, and I helped him to find it, seeing that I am a knight of the old code. The ordeal was quite perilous, surprisingly enough, and I only found his head after hours of searching. There ist no need to describe his joy over my discovery; they had quite a tearful reunion. The good fellows threw me a feast for my effort."  
  
Benedick spoke up, twitching his whiskers in a sarcastic smirk. "You say he lost his head? Fieries are quite known for that, and in more than one sense, I assure you!"  
  
The Dwarven Queen, Delina, nudged him and reproachingly whispered, "My dear feline, there are Fiery guests here; I wouldn't speak so loud, if I were you."  
  
"Oh, c'mon, Delina... I meant nothing harmful by it!" Benedick laughed heartily. "It's not as if we felines don't have our little quirks. Hourly bathing, insatiable milk cravings..."  
  
"Hairballs," Sage mumbled under his breath.  
  
Benedick pointed an accusing finger at the elf, his claw protracting in the movement. "I heard that, Sage!" He shook his finger at him a few times before picking up his fork again to cut his fish. "Well, we felines don't have that blasted millenium life-span that you elves are famous for... I mean, really, you being about to nag people for a thousand years!! You must be the king of nuisances!"  
  
Sage chuckled and replied, "Yes, you are correct." With a stiff lip, he looked down at his food and mumbled, "But, then again, I don't go hacking away in the middle of a meal." Benedick had not caught the comment, but everyone else who was in the area had. While the cat continued his meal in an air of forced silence, Sage dropped his fork and began coughing. Sarah looked up with a startled expression, but did not fret when she realized what Sage was doing. The elf began hacking and hacking, as if he were trying to get something dislodged from his throat, yet it was apparent that he was not choking, for he was smiling broadly, and making exaggerated motions. Benedick looked up from his plate and Sarah tried not to spit out her food in her strangled laughter. Sage sobered up for a moment, gripping his neck, and said in a throaty voice,"Please forgive me, I can't quite get it out..."  
  
"What are you about, Sage?" Benedick asked with a raised eyebrow as the table broke out in riotous laughter.  
  
Delina controlled herself long enough to exclaim, "And at a royal feast! You should be ashamed of yourself, Sage!!"  
  
Finally Sage seemed to have coughed the object out into his hand, and he took a swig of wine. "I am so sorry," he said with an almost sincere look of apology. "I guess we elves are too subject to hairballs."  
  
Sarah fell back into her chair, very unqueenly, but very much amused. "Oh, Sage, you are the absolute devil!"  
  
Benedick looked on with a dumfounded expression, as if he had been utterly fooled by Sage's act and felt like dunce because of it. "Let me see what you have in your hand, elf!"  
  
Sage looked down into his hand, then looked up at Benedick. "I assure you, it is not very pleasant, my feline friend."  
  
Benedick gave him a sardonic grin. "I have seen plenty a hairball, I assure you."  
  
"Very well, then, you may have it!" Sage then tossed the object across the room, and the cat caught it with a swift motion.  
  
The cat looked up at Sage with a wrinkled brow upon his examination of the thing. "Very funny!"  
  
"Come, let us see it!" Delina urged as the feline covered it with his hand.  
  
Grudgingly, the cat held up the object. It was a pendant with a painted image of Benedick on it. "Are you trying to say that I am a hairball, Sage?" Benedick asked in a good-natured tone.  
  
"Never, Benedick my feline friend." Sage gave the cat a lopsided grin. "You just look like one."  
  
"Very well, then, Sage. You'll get what's coming to you."  
  
"Hopefully not another hairball... Those things are gastly."  
  
With an air of superiority, the cat replied, "I will ignore you now, and continue my meal." He turned to face Sarah and smiled. "Your Majesty, this is the best smoked herring I've had in ages! And the milk is so sweet! You certainly do know how to throw a party."  
  
"Well, that's one thing I did right during high school." Sarah chuckled to herself before continuing. "I always dreamt that I would one day be in a big production called a Boradway play. I would then have the biggest cast party afterward. I threw many parties during high school for, what I called, practice." Again, she laughed. "I was a big dreamer back then."  
  
"Oh, c'mon missy," Hoggle said. "You still dream, dontcha?"  
  
"Well, I don't want to be one to look the gift horse in the mouth," Sarah said sheepishly, "but, when you have everything you could ever wish for, there's not much dreaming left to do. I kind of have more practical goals now. My dreams are to make this kingdom successful and to bring unity to the Underground... Dreams that aren't really for myself. I'm not saying that I don't cherish those dreams in the same way as ones for myself, just that my outlook on life has changed."  
  
Ludo looked up from his slow concentrated eating. With a cocked head he said, "Sarah-- need dreams."  
  
"Yes, fair maiden," Didymus added. "Everyone needs dreams."  
  
"Well, maybe I've still got a lot to learn," Sarah answered. "I just don't have many dreams at this moment. Perhaps I'm still adjusting to--"  
  
"BOY! What a turnout!!"  
  
Everyone in the room jerked their heads to see the source of the exclamation. In front of the double doors that led into the dining hall stood an almost identical replica of Sarah, wearing her hair in a pony-tail while sneakers protruded from beneath her purple taffeta dress of simple design. She bent over to pull off her tennis shoe and replaced it with a pump. "Sorry I'm late."  
  
"Leah!" Sarah exclaimed as she jumped out of her chair and went to hug her twin. The surprise of seeing Leah was almost as great as when she had discovered her within Shadow Mountain four years ago. She already had a world of things to tell her, and was sure that her "shadow" had a few adventures from Aboveground to share, as well. She took a moment to examine the woman up-close. Leah's had apparently died her hair a reddish-brown, and had cut it so that it was chin-length. Her counterpart was well-groomed and decidedly pretty, but still had an air of boyishness about her. That's good-old Leah for you, she thought as a smile widened on her face. Count on her to come to a royal feast in sneakers.  
  
Sarah took Leah by the hand and led her to the front of the room. "Everyone, may I have your attention?!" A warm, tingling happiness welled up inside of Sarah with this new pleasant arrival to her day. The room was quickly empty of the murmering voices as the guests looked up from their meal. "This is Leah, my former shadow and best friend. If it were not for her, I probably would not be here today!"  
  
"Is it truly milady Leah?" Sir Didymus asked as he rose from his seat and approached Sarah's twin. He grasped her hand delicately and laid a kiss upon it. "I am very honoured to once again be in your presence." He looked up at Sarah and added, "If 'twere not for milady, we should not ever have been free of the Shadow Mountains."  
  
"Yeah, lucky for me I found her before Jareth's shadow came to plague her. That would have been a misfortune!" Leah exclaimed with a laugh.  
  
Some of the guests chuckled at this remark, while Sage said, "Come, have a seat, Leah, and join us in our meal."  
  
* * *  
  
The blond-headed man dropped his fork and put his hand to his head, as if in pain. Granen dropped his own fork and put his hand on his companion's shoulder. "What's th'matter, lad? What's troublin' you? Not ill, are ye?"  
  
"No, Granen, not physically," the man replied, sighing heavily. "I ache within...for the pain I have caused everyone else." He put his napkin down and looked up purposefully at the ceiling. "I have many preparations to make... There is so much still left to atone for, and so little time."  
  
"What be ya speakin' of, lad? I don't quite follow ye." A surprised expression took ahold of his features as the blond-headed man took a swig of the wine that sat before him. "You must really be disturbed, if ya be drinkin' liquor. Come, tell me. You know you can trust me... "  
  
"No, Granen," the man replied, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I do not wish to share it yet. I must leave, now." He rose from the table and pushed back his chair. "There is much to be done." Leaving his friend behind with his jaw agape in wonder, the man went toward the doors that led into the dining hall. He turned around and gazed somerbly at the queen. "My dearest Sarah..." he whispered to himself. "I promise that no harm shall come to you, now or ever again. Even if I must die." 


	7. Chapter 6: Casting Spells

CHAPTER VI: Casting Spells  
  
The librarian was one of the trash people, and he lived in the library on the second floor. It had taken a great deal of screaming to wake him from his evening nap. He had been decidedly cranky, for he was so busy tending to the library that he had not been able to go to the dinner at the castle. A handful of gold coins had silenced him adequately, and he allowed the blond-headed man to enter without argument. With a brusque, yet unsure step, the man headed to the dusty books at the rear of the room. Above one of the tilting bookcases was a carved sign reading Magic. He picked one of the old books out of the shelf gingerly, and gazed at the cover with a maudlin expression.  
  
"How long has it been since I looked at these books?" he asked himself in a whisper. "Too long. Too, too long."  
  
With a sudden youthful vigor, he sauntered over to a table and opened the nameless book. The librarian squinched up his green and already heavily wrinkled face as he watched his strange visitor in wonder. "Huh, could swear I knows him from somewhere..." he mumbled. "But, no, it was long, long ago... Yet, we remembers. We musts remembers." Soon he dismissed the puzzle, and went back to stamping books.  
  
The blond-headed man flipped through the pages quickly, twisting his mustache between his fingers agitatedly. "Oh, I could never perform these spells again." He flipped a page and decided, "No, it must be too difficult for her." He flipped another. "Too involved." Another. "Too personal... too tiring... too-- " Suddenly, he slammed the book shut and looked across the room angrily. "Oh, I cannot ask this of her! But, I cannot do it without her! Damn it all! Why did I even bother?"  
  
"Because you cannot bear to live without her," a voice said from behind him.  
  
He swerved about, and looked up at the owner of the voice in surprise. Sage's elfin features were lit at sharp angles by the candle on the table. "Oh, it is you, Sage. You startled me."  
  
The elf took a seat across from the man, and put his hands together in a thoughtful manner. "I saw you leave the dinner table. You are troubled?"  
  
"Very much so," the man answered sadly. "I thought I might be able to hide from him, but I see that he has suddenly become ambitious."  
  
"Well, yes, there are some things that cannot be prevented."  
  
"They could have."  
  
Sage sighed heavily. "Things happen, strange things. We all make mistakes. I should know." Leaning back in the chair, the elf continued, "But you know as well as I do that your mistake had amazingly positive consequences, despite the negative ones. Some bad things happen for the good. That, I can say once again, is an experience I have also had." A laugh escaped from his lips. "Well, why am I telling you? You know these things as well as I do."  
  
"Yes, but there are times when I need reminding," the man said as he tapped his fingers against the wood of the table. "I still wish that I could solve this problem on my own."  
  
"You know you cannot," Sage answered somberly. "And it is going to be best, in the end, that you do not. Trust me. You know this... you just need to ignore your stubborn need to stay detached." A smile widened on his gaunt face. "Now, the masquerade ball has begun. If there ever was a better opportunity to dance with your love, it is now."  
  
"I am not ready, Sage," the man replied, his head hanging down, causing his hair to cover his face.  
  
Sage laid his hand upon that of the other man's. "Of course you are. Anyhow, you can remain without identity for awhile. It is a masquerade ball."  
  
"There is more for me to do."  
  
Like a lightning bolt, Sage shot up from his chair. "Oh, stuff and nonsense!" he answered sharply, yet playfully. "There is time! We need not disturb the librarian another moment with your obssessive whim. Come, we are going back to the castle, whether you like it, or not. You will soon be thanking me, you stubborn man!"  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah was standing against the wall, talking in an animated manner to her closest friend, Leah. Within their small circle of conversation was Benedick, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Vindar, Sage's son. They all wore elegant masks, Sarah donning one that looked like the head of a dove, its feathers white and pink-tinged at the edges. A tapestry hung behind them all, offsetting Sarah's glittering gown and giving her a strange, angelic appearance.  
  
"So, Leah, what has been happening Aboveground?" Sarah asked, a smile appearing beneath the curved beak of her mask.  
  
Leah brushed a morsel of food from her shining dress. "Well, believe it or not, I have gotten a job as an environmental engineer. I'm not getting paid much, seeing that I just completed my college education..."  
  
Riotous laughter came from Sarah. "Oh, good God! What did Mom and Dad have to say about you changing my major?" Ever since they had switched places, Sarah had wondered what crazy things Leah would be doing to make her parents suspect that Sarah had been replaced by another person. Leah had never told Sarah about the change in college majors. I mean, what a dramatic change! An actress to an environmental engineer!  
  
"Well," Leah said with a chuckle, "I wanted to explore the world scientifically, and wanted to feel that I was helping somehow to get rid of all the problems that arise from people taking the world for granted." She pointed an accusing finger at Sarah. "Taking it for granted like you did, my queenly companion."  
  
"Yeah, well I can honestly say that my perspective has changed a bit," Sarah replied.  
  
"I also see that, though you seem to be having a grand old time, you have not let your own hair down a bit," Leah remarked soberly. "As a matter of fact, that French roll on your head is tighter than normal."  
  
"I am a queen," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "I have a lot of responsibility. Anyhow, who says I am not enjoying it? I love every bit of it. I wouldn't trade it for the world."  
  
"There's that old familiar denial creeping in," Leah said, clucking her tongue playfully.  
  
"Sarah -- good queen," Ludo said with a sideways cock of his shaggy head.  
  
Benedick smiled beneath the mask of a wolf, revealing his sharp teeth. "Not a better one in the wide world, I say!"  
  
"What about that little lad that you was trying to get back from Jareth nine years ago?" Hoggle asked from his lower position, his nose protruding from beneath a simple, ebony eye-mask. "What was is name? Toby, was it?"  
  
"Ah, Toby!" Leah said with a mischievous grin. "Toby has become quite the bright young man! Though, he is a bit withdrawn in school..." Suddenly her expression became serious.  
  
"Oh no, he's not doing badly, is he?" Sarah asked with a worried look.  
  
"All those fantastical experiences he had are subconsciously haunting him, I would expect," Vindar offered.  
  
Leah crossed her arms. "Well, I think that is exactly what is happening. Toby does all of these marvelous things, that other nine-year-olds don t normally do. Especially..." Her voice trailed off apprehensively.  
  
"What?" Sarah asked with wide eyes.  
  
"Especially making his bad grades turn into good ones."  
  
Sarah sighed and laughed in relief. "Oh, you old joker you! You had me going for a second."  
  
"Ah, Sarah," Leah said in complete seriousness, "I wasn't being silly. Toby does make low grades. And then he looks at the paper, and they turn into A's. Not only that, he has been known to make creatures from T.V...."  
  
Sarah gazed at Leah disbelievingly. "Make them... appear?"  
  
"Uh-huh..." Leah said with a sober nod. "Thankfully, they don't last long. I, uh, I don t know if he s been doing any of this in public... at least, not anything major. I have, however, seen him do it around me. The only thing that I really know he did at school was to make an eraser fly at his teacher when she put his name on the board for daydreaming in class. He got sent to the principal's office, because the teacher thought he threw it at her."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me, for God's sake?" Sarah exclaimed. "This is really serious!"  
  
"I didn't find out until just recently, when I came to visit last week."  
  
"It looks as if Her Majesty's brother hath magical abilites," Sir Didymus offered. "All capable magicians should have training. Such skills should not go unattended!"  
  
"Sir is correct," Vindar offered, holding out his hand in explanation. "Toby will need to learn to control his powers. I think I know exactly what is going on."  
  
"If so, please enlighten me," Sarah said breathlessly, looking as if she were going to faint.  
  
"You, Sarah, already know that you have magical powers. Such powers are generally dormant Aboveground, especially when the owner does not believe they have them. Magic does run through the blood in a family line, and so it is logical that Toby would be gifted with those powers. Yet, the technicality arises here: Aboveground, people do not believe in magic, so it is not an everyday occurrence. It simply does not exist Aboveground. But, when you travel to a world of magic, such as the Underground is, you take some of the magic with you. Toby is such an imaginative child, apparently, that he believes he has magic. So he uses it."  
  
"And, when Jareth brought him here, he was exposed to a great deal of magic," Sarah reasoned. She scowled fiercely. "What in heaven's name can I do?"  
  
"The boy will have to come here, no doubt, where magic is normal," Benedick said as he crossed his arms. He saw Sarah's troubled appearance, then added, "Oh, come now! I think it would be great fun to have the lad running about, turning people into goblins!" Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Okay, not people, just Sage." She continued to glare at him. "Oh, I see... Very well, then, not a goblin, a frog. Sage is already close enough to a goblin, as it is."  
  
"We cannot just take him here," Sarah explained with a sigh. "We will have to... Oh, this is going to be so much trouble!"  
  
Leah put her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Yes, we re going to have to tell Mom and Dad about the Underground."  
  
"Huh," Hoggle grunted. "They ain't gonna believe a word of it. You got your work cut out for you, Sarah."  
  
"Oh, you just don't know how aware I am of that..."  
  
"I mean, Mom is so practical," Leah offered. "She'd never believe in all of this. And you becoming a queen? Of course, she thinks you've become an environmental engineer... If that isn't shocking enough."  
  
"Milady, methinks the solution will come of its own accord, " Didymus said with an energetic thrust of his staff. "Let us enjoy the ball."  
  
Vindar turned around a looked across the room. When he spotted his father, Sage, from across the room, he waved vigorously. "There he is! I wonder where he s been all this time?"  
  
Benedick nudged the young elf with his elbow. "Vindar, who's the gent that's with him?"  
  
Vindar smiled mischievously. "Oh, an old friend of father's. He's an artist."  
  
Sarah looked up suddenly. "An artist, you say? He didn't just arrive today, did he?"  
  
"Yes," Vindar replied, cocking his head to the side. "You've heard of him?"  
  
"Well, just briefly. Damion asked me today if he could give the man permission to set up a booth," Sarah explained. "What kind of art does he make?"  
  
The young elf beamed. "Oh, he's a marvelous painter... He does a lot of scenery and portraiture, but it's all done in this half-realistic style. You should come to his booth tomorrow and see it. It's spectacular."  
  
"I certainly will," she replied with slanted eyes. "I certainly will..."  
  
Finally, Sage and the man had arrived at the edge of the huddled group of friends. Sarah summed her new guest up: he was tall and slender, but healthily built, as if he had lived the life of a working-man. Beneath his white, glittering unicorn mask, a head of smooth blond hair could be seen and intense green eyes glowed serenely. His dinner jacket was very genteel and somewhat unorhtodox, but was also very modest. His humble clothing contrasted sharply with his ornate mask. Well, he certainly dresses like an artist, she commented mentally. He looks awful familiar, though I am sure I have never met him in my life...  
  
"Meet my old friend," Sage exclaimed, a grin appearing beneath his own bird- like mask.  
  
Sarah offered her hand for a handshake, but the man took hold of it gently and brought it to his lips. "I am honored, Your Majesty."  
  
"Well..." Sarah said with a sly grin. "Your friend is certainly the gentleman. Does your gentlemanship have a name?" she asked, looking at the strange man with her soft eyes.  
  
"Names are sometimes very self-debasing," the man replied with a mischievous grin. "I don't believe in using them."  
  
"They are helpful, however, in identification," Sarah replied, equaling his own intellectual and playful tone of voice.  
  
"A technicality," the man answered dodgingly. "Since I am one of the few who choose not to use a name, it does not cause me many problems. Anyhow... Perhaps I do not wish to be identified." Again, he smiled knowingly.  
  
"And why would that be?" Sarah challenged. "Are you hiding from yourself?"  
  
"In a manner of speaking," the man chuckled as he stroked his goatee, "I would suppose that I am. At least, my external self."  
  
"And, this denial of external self helps you how...?"  
  
"Well, as an artist, it allows me to explore my own internal self as compared to the world. It allows me to look at myself as a smaller part of a greater working. Since I gave up my name, I have learned a great deal about people in general." His hair and eyes glistened in response the the light of the above chandelier. "By hiding from myself and others, I have -- strange as it is -- found myself." Suddenly, he was chuckling. "I am still quite an anomaly, I suppose, even after all these years." He seemed to notice Sarah's amused, yet perplexed expression, and chuckled again. "I am not making much sense to you, am I, Your Majesty?"  
  
"Strange as it seems, you are making complete sense to me," she confessed, the baffled expression still on her countenance. "I feel as if I know you..." With a shake of her head, she shook away her obvious stare, then laughed. "Well, but, that cannot be, because I have never met a man without a name before."  
  
"No, Your Majesty, it saddens me to say that we have not known each other before today," he replied, his eyes hazing over unnoticeably.  
  
"Well, if he isn't the charmer!" Benedick exclaimed warmly, giving the man a friendly whop on the back. "Perhaps you could teach me a few tricks, nameless gent. I don't think I ve ever seen her majesty blush so!"  
  
With the knowledge that she was reddening, Sarah could feel her face warm further. She did not see Sage nudge the man.  
  
The band of elves at the front of the room began a new song, and a young elfin male stood forward, preparing to sing. Clearing his voice, the blond- haired man held out his hand. "Perhaps Her Majesty would care to dance?"  
  
"It would be my pleasure," Sarah answered, forcing herself to act as if she were not overly-excited by the prospect. Yet, as he held her hand once again, his warm and gentle touch caused her to shiver slightly. He looked up at her suddenly when he noticed this tremor, and she saw a great many things mirrored in his eyes. Oh, how many things he seems to say with his eyes! she thought, suddenly feeling faint. There is an entire world there... Such agony, such helplessness... She stared into his face, unabashed and silent, as he began to whirl her about the room.  
  
Yet, as he dances, the sadness seems to evaporate... Who is he?!! Who is he...?  
  
The soft, languid voice of the young elf at the front of the room began to echo throughout the hall:  
  
A maiden dances through the trees: I've seen her once, so wild and free. Upon her brow she wears a mark, That makes her dance within the dark.  
  
A man, I was, with lonely mornings, Little interested in love's adornings, Until I saw her within the wood, Dancing her dream till she no longer could.  
  
I tried to speak, but speak could not, Her dance was with neccessity fraught, Her feet touched ground in somber rite, As I watched her dance throughout the night.  
  
And who thought I would fall in love, With such a dreamless, fallen dove, Who danced for forgotten need, That had no hope to give it lead?  
  
  
  
As the singer stopped momentarily for the band to play the chorus, the man broke the silence. "I have heard from afar that you are a marvelous queen... I am curious to know... Are you enjoying it?"  
  
Sarah smiled wanly up at him. "Oh, of course I am. I have everything I could ever wish for. Yet..."  
  
His mouth turned down into a sympathetic frown. "Yet what?"  
  
Letting her thoughts out in such an easy fashion that startled herself, Sarah replied, "It takes up all of my energy. I don't get to do much for myself. I don t have any privacy. The list goes on and on..."  
  
"So," he said sadly, it isn't such a dream come true, after all."  
  
"Well, no, I wouldn't say that..." Again, she smiled, her demeanor somewhat distant. "It really is. It is better than living your life knowing that magic is happening somewhere, and you're not a part of it. Here, I have magic. Actually, few people know that I have become a skilled sorceress...of sorts." She laughed. "Yet, I have accidentally turned Sage into a goblin, once. I'm glad he didn t take it badly."  
  
"Yes," the man said, chuckling. "Sage told me about his experience as a goblin. He said that all he could remember thinking during the time was, 'Gee, I am rather hungry.' No doubt, that was a very similar thought to the ones the inhabitants of this city must have had once upon a time."  
  
"Yes," Sarah answered, a sudden discomfort washing over her. Suddenly, she was aware of his slender hand at her waist, his green eyes gazing into her, and his strangely high regard for her. The music became more flurried and whispery, and he spun her about the room at a quicker, yet smoother pace. Quiet engulfed their sphere of existence as the elfin song broke through:  
  
So now, I take my dancer's hand, And we dance throughout the wooded land; If she must dance to dreams unsown, I will not let her dance alone.  
  
Oh dance with me, Oh dance with me, Until you feel your heart is free, And we will dance into the wood-- Not as we must, But because we could.  
  
Oh dance with me, Oh dance with me, And tell me that you finally see, That love can be more than the dance -- A rising dream, A rekindled romance.  
  
Oh dance with me, Oh dance with me, And show me who you think I be, For, as you are free, you must realize, I am one you know-- It is in my eyes.  
  
The song ended, and the man led her back to her friends, quite breathless and amazed. Sage stared at Sarah thoughtfully, then gave her a knowing smile. Smiling shyly in return, she said, "Well, I have had a wonderful evening with you all. I regret that I cannot continue participating in the ball, but there are things to tend to." She gave the stranger a sweeping glance. "Thank you for the dance."  
  
"No, Your Majesty. It is I who thank you," he said, giving a deep bow. "I too, must depart. I have preparations to make for tomorrow's festival." He put his hand on Sage's shoulder. "Will you come and see me tomorrow, Sage?"  
  
"Of course, of course," Sage answered. "I would not miss it for the world."  
  
"And you, Sarah," the man said as he looked up at her, not realizing that he had used her first name. "How would you like to visit me tomorrow? I should like to hear your opinions."  
  
Suddenly, Sarah s face flushed white, and she stared back at him as if she had just seen a ghost. "I will come if I have time..." she answered hurriedly. "Thank you for the invitation." With a rushed air, she shook hands with some and gave brief hugs to others. "I bid you all good night." Then she walked quickly from the room and disappeared up a flight of stairs.  
  
"Well, I wonder what that was all about?" Benedick declared, his brow wrinkling in thought.  
  
Hoggle gave the man a look similar to that of Sarah's. "It'd look as if she'd seen a ghost," he said, giving the man a purposeful glare. "I hope she don't see it again. I'ud give my life to keep her from gettin' that look on her face again... " After a few moments, the dwarf discontinued his glowering and removed his mask, stomping out of the room in the direction that Sarah had gone.  
  
"Now he's at it!" Benedick exclaimed, twitching his whiskers in his confusion. "Where did the jovial atmosphere go to?"  
  
Vindar looked sadly at the man, then at Sage. "Oh, father..." he said mournfully. "It has all gone wrong."  
  
"It is my fault," the man said with downcast eyes. When he realized who he was standing before, he added quickly, "I must have said something to upset her. I will go now... Please tell me if she is alright tomorrow, will you, Sage?"  
  
"Yes, yes, of course," Sage said, staring absentmindedly at the staircase where Sarah had gone. "Please, do not worry over it. She will be fine by morning."  
  
The man turned and left through the crowd, his coat-tail swinging behind him. Leah looked at Sage and asked, "Who the hell was that? All this mumbo- jumbo about not having a a name..."  
  
"He is a good man who has had a horrible life," Sage explained. "And, about the name, please do not be so quick to judge, my dearest Leah. Things are not always what they seem."  
  
"Indeed." Leah crossed her arms, and went up the stairs, too.  
  
"There goes number three!" the cat announced. "Really, I don't understand what is going on, Sage... Would you mind explaining?"  
  
"At this point, yes, I would," Sage answered. "And, I think that we should let the solution come of its own accord."  
  
"Noble advice, if I do say so myself!" Didymus exclaimed as he grabbed a nearby Fiery and began a congo line. "So, shall we, as the Fiery's would say..." he let out a howl and began swinging his tail, "Party?"  
  
"Marvelous suggestion!" Benedick cried, joining the line.  
  
"Ludo -- dance." Ludo waddled over to the end of the line, tilting his head backward and howling accordingly with Didymus example. A bit of debris fell in a friendly manner from the ceiling in response to his howl, and the creatures in the congo line stopped to stare at him.  
  
He smiled wistfully at them. "Oops... Sorry." 


	8. Chapter 7: Reuinion

CHAPTER VII: Reunion  
  
A white gown of chiffon fluttered in butterfly motions out of the concealment of a bush. One more movement, a graceful step into the arena of the courtyard, and Isabelle could be seen fully, the light breeze teasing her loose, yet waist-fitting dress. Even her hair was not safe from the cool night air. Mouth drawn up at the corners and hands thoughtfully held behind her back, she sauntered over to the fountain and its glistening silver nymphs. Light music drifted in from the ballroom, accompanied by laughter and chatter. In the dusk light Isabelle looked frail, troubled, and alone.  
  
Somewhere in the depths of the rose-laden shrubbery, two slanted, elfin eyes gazed at this twilight beauty. Hugging the plants and trees close as he followed her in the darkness, he remained at a quiet, careful distance. His eyes twinkled merrily, and a mischievous, yet marveling grin played upon his lips. "What a pearl!" he whispered to himself. "What they all say is true, then... She does look like the queen at a younger age. But... this beauty... so uncertain... so withdrawn... so mysterious..." He quickly bit his lip and made a more earnest pursuit. "And so sad..."  
  
Isabelle bent over to pick two white roses and placed them behind her ear in decoration. With a soft, crystalline voice she began to sing:  
  
"Maidens were made for certain charms To tend the hearth with graceful arms To dance through day and love through night To dash out wrong and live by right  
  
Darkness not should haunt her hours But should glow so bright with summer flowers And nothing heavy to weigh her mind But the thought of some sweet love to find  
  
So where is the sunshine Amidst this heavy rain? Maidens shouldst not know The meaning of life's pain.  
  
So where is the knight To slay this monstrous past? A maiden's one refrain Should be the song her heart holds fast.  
  
A maiden's love is a lovers' game A dance that brings her heart to flame A kiss that lasts from spring to fall A momentous dance at the yearly ball  
  
Moments of honey to sweeten the mind Will destroy the bonds which her past binds A lover's kiss will kiss good-bye The blighted past that haunts her eye.  
  
She continued to hum the tune to herself as she twirled about the fountain, her long hair streaming behind her in her sudden frenzy. It was as if an uncontrollable and unexplainable passion had taken grips of her within her solitude, causing her to react in the only way that came to mind; she would dance the darkness away.  
  
Suddenly, Isabelle's elfin observer stepped from the shadows and blocked her path, bringing forth a startled yelp from the girl. Even in the darkness it could be seen that she had flushed red with embarrassment; she caught herself quickly and made a faint attempt at sounding unabashed by the surprise encounter. "Oh!" she laughed weakly, "It's you! Vindar, am I right?! You scared me clear out of my skin."  
  
Vindar stepped back, tall and reflecting no expression from his downturned face. "Dancing alone in the darkness, sweet maiden? This is a ball; you should have a partner." Without warning, a sideways grin took hold of his full mouth. Once again, Isabelle flushed; she smiled for a brief second as she turned to meet his gaze, which waited between slants of eyes that peered from a mischievously tilted head. She seemed to think better of her reaction, and pulled up the ends of her dress to run from the courtyard.  
  
Vindar quickly dropped his flirtatious demeanor and took on a puzzled expression. It took only a second for him to begin his pursuit. "Playing chase, Isabelle?" he called out buoyantly as he bounded on long legs toward her.  
  
"No!" she cried breathlessly, not discontinuing her speedy journey. "Just leave me alone! I am completely humiliated, you have gotten what it was you desired!"  
  
She turned a corner, and was immediately stopped by Vindar's patient, waiting figure. Before she could turn around and begin running again, Vindar grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back. "Let me go!" she cried.  
  
"Not so fast, sweet maiden," he chuckled.  
  
"Stop calling me that," she said between gritted teeth.  
  
"Such a frisky creature," he teased. "Very well, my dear, you may go, if you so choose. Just know that my desire was not to humiliate you. Never would I laugh at such a sparkling animal as yourself."  
  
He released his grip, and she turned to face him, gaining her composure and pulling her hair back with a dignified motion as she did so. "And do not call me 'my dear', Son of Sage. I am not your lover, nor will I ever be."  
  
He leaned with assuredness against a nearby column. "And why not, Lovely? Are you ashamed to have me even think for a second that I might share your beauty?"  
  
"Only one person has ever called me 'my dear'," she stated with a sudden sincerity of expression, remorseful and remembering. "And he is gone." Without further words, she turned slowly to enter the castle.  
  
"Isabelle--"  
  
She stopped and made a sudden twirling motion to face him. Looking about anxiously, she finally turned her gaze to the elf, almost looking disappointed that she had not found someone other than him awaiting her expectant eyes. "Yes?"  
  
"That person you refer to... wouldn't be Jareth, would it?"  
  
Her eyes widened. She wet her mouth carefully. "Jareth... The Goblin King..." She held her arms about herself. "Stop playing games, elf, you don't know the memories you arouse."  
  
"Would you like to know why I am really here?" Vindar asked quietly, approaching her with careful steps.  
  
"If it is to taunt me, I--"  
  
He took her hand. "He is here. To see you. He asked me to bring you to him."  
  
"He is dead." Tears began to stream down her face. "You are not telling the truth... are you?"  
  
"See for yourself."  
  
He stepped back ceremoniously and pointed toward the eastern wall of the courtyard; she followed his motion and floated with purpose to look around the barrier. Sitting at the base of an old elm tree was the blond-headed man. With slow purpose he raised his head and gazed at the young beauty that sought him out. First, he pursed his lips, sighed, and wrung his hands before he found the strength required to smile. Rising, he sifted his full blond hair nervously through his fingers and pulled his other hand from his pocket to reveal some folded sheets of parchment. Isabelle carefully stepped out from behind the concealing wall, her mouth closed tightly and her eyes wide with amazement. With a graceful, yet absentminded motion she smoothed out her dress. The man was silent for several moments before he finally spoke.  
  
"Isabelle..." He shook his head in wonder and chuckled through a wavering voice. "You certainly have grown into a unique creature." His eyes were hungry, but with a type of longing that expressed care instead of avarice. "I wondered over these years -- I wondered if I would ever live to see this day."  
  
Walking toward him as if she were approaching a dangerous animal, Isabelle said, "My king? Is it truly you? I-I thought you were dead.... After all this time..."  
  
"No, Isabelle, I am no longer your king. I was never any kind of king, but more of a monster." He bridged the final length of grass that had separated them. "Now, I am Jareth. Just call me Jareth."  
  
Tears streamed down her olive skin. "Jareth. I am glad you have returned."  
  
She smiled weakly, and he abruptly went to embrace her. Hiding her head in his shoulder, she shook as he smoothed her hair out affectionately.  
  
"Yes, Isabelle, I am home. At least, for now." Jareth sighed and held her tighter. "You have grown to be so tall... I remember when you were no more than three feet high! I never saw you after your transformation..." He lifted her head to look at her. "To think you were once a goblin, all due to my wickedness. But, even then-- even then your beauty would not be contained. Such a sweet, sweet child, and nothing but wickedness to live in..."  
  
"You are wrong!" she exclaimed passionately. "You took me away from my father, you saved me from his wickedness! Even if I would have had to remain a goblin for the rest of my life to escape his torment, to stay in your castle, I would have been content!"  
  
Brushing his hands over her hair he said, "Sarah is caring well for you, I would suppose? You look well... And you have everything you need?"  
  
"Oh, yes, she is absolutely wonderful..." She smiled wanly. "One of the best friends I have had, or could ever ask for. She's like a mother to me." With a fallen smile she turned down her gaze.  
  
"What's this?" he asked suddenly. "Why be sad, then? If you have everything you need..."  
  
"Oh no!" she said with a start, her smile widening without obvious provocation. "I have everything I have ever wanted.... now that I know you are alive." Her expression was sober and her eyes piercing.  
  
"Oh, sweet Isabelle, sweet darling child..." Holding her hands in his left, he proffered the parchment that lay in his right. "I drew these two years ago, imagining how you would look right now." He laughed softly. "I must confess, they don't match your beauty, but they prove that I have thought about you often, and with happiness and wonder each time."  
  
She took the paper with trembling hands, and opened them carefully. They were slightly frayed at the edges, and were wrinkled with wear, but the images they depicted once unfolded were true to the artist's claims. It was indeed an exact replica of the girl, drawn meticulously with a gentle hand, depicting in soft and sometimes sharp charcoal lines each contour of her youthful face. A sweet smile played on her lips, and she brought her hand to her mouth to suppress a bewildered laugh. "It is me!" she observed happily. "They are marvelous... I--" She looked up at him in wonder. "I do not know what to make of all this. Even though you were always so kind to me, you seem to be an entirely different person."  
  
"Well, my dear," Jareth replied, tilting his head to the side and grinning mischievously, "that is because I am. But, I..." He shook his head again as if amazed at himself, and chuckled. "This may sound strange coming from me, for I was never one to admit my feelings with ease, but I will say that there is one way that I have not changed. I still love you Isabelle as I always did. I just hope that it is not too late for me to do it the proper way."  
  
"You know...." She held his hands tightly and bit her lip. "I waited a very longtime to hear you say that. A very long time."  
  
"The wait always stops somewhere, I should know. Sometimes we have to make the wait stop ourselves, or we shall end up waiting for eternity." He slipped his arm about hers and suddenly exclaimed, "And, speaking of which, I say we should have a seat by this fine elm to continue our conversation. No use standing in the middle of this courtyard as if we were complete strangers afraid to stray outside of conventional conversation."  
  
Once they were seated, Isabelle said, "You know, I am not the only one who waited for you to return... But, I'm afraid that the other person I speak of might not be as willing to accept your presence."  
  
"You do not mean to tell me that it is too late to woo Sarah, now would you?" Jareth replied in a joking tone. "For I will woo her until I die, if need be."  
  
"Sarah has given up on you."  
  
Jareth leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "I know that she has. She was somewhat suspicious of who I was today, when I encountered her at the ball, but I imagine she has convinced herself that I am still dead and gone by now. If not because she truly believes it, then because it is safer to believe so than to try to love me for a third time. That is, if I ever earned her true love."  
  
"You know you did. But now, well... She doesn't ever speak of it, but I think she began to feel as if you left her out of some cruel persuasion. When you did not return, she changed somehow..."  
  
Jareth sat upright. "Changed? How so?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know." She sighed and placed her hands in the folds of her dress. "She doesn't talk to me about her feelings, not like she did when I first met her. Now, she's just the queen, and a marvelous one at that... Charming, funny, always looking out for her friends and minions as if they were the closest people in the land to her."  
  
A brief silence took reign, and Jareth's eyes hazed over with memory. A smile widened slowly on his countenance. "She sounds like a spectacular queen... Too spectacular."  
  
Isabelle fingered the silk pleats of her skirt. "Several nights ago, I went to speak with her. It was half-past two in the morning, and I did not expect to find her awake. Peeking into her quarters, I saw her, bent over some treasury scrolls and holding the hair back from her eyes. She was tired. Very tired. I could tell. She looked up, but did not see me..." With a motion intended to imitate that of Sarah's, Isabelle lifted her head wearily. "From the drawer she pulled a crystal sphere, just like the ones you used to cast your spells. She gazed into it, as if seeking someone, then began to twirl it across her fingers, so graceful she was... It was like a tightrope act, for she was the wire and the ball was the acrobat. And then she said, as if to herself, almost as if she were acting out a part, 'I am offering you your dreams...' Sighing, she placed the talisman back into its place in the drawer, and said, 'And he was certainly true to his word. I have everything I could have ever...'" Isabelle drifted off and looked languidly up at Jareth. "And then she began to cry. I had never seen her cry, not in all these years..."  
  
Jareth consumed each word greedily, looking at the young girl in quiet astonishment. Suddenly, without warning, he diverted all of his attention to the task of departure.  
  
"Where are you going?" Isabelle called as she too rose.  
  
"I have things to do, my dear," he replied as he walked backward so that he might face her. His step was light but hurried. "Many, many important things to do!"  
  
"What are you going to do, Jareth?" she asked, taking only one step in pursuit before stopping.  
  
"Learn what it is like to live!"  
  
"And what will you do after that?" Isabelle queried as if dissatisfied with his answer.  
  
"Show Sarah what I have learned..." 


	9. Chapter 8: Suspicions

CHAPTER VIII: Suspicions  
  
Sage managed a silent departure from the festivities. The remaining crowd was fairly small, and those who would most likely stay a few more hours either had intentions of making an important acquaintance or of helping to replete the castle's alcohol supply. The elf routed his journey so that he might pass through the guest quarters and make sure that all of the members of royalty housed there were perfectly comfortable. With a chuckle, he noticed that the only one remaining at the downstairs festivities was Benedick, no doubt being one of those partygoers intent upon getting a healthy dose of the Queen's wine. Sage always kept a handful of Randwine berries on hand during any festivity involving alcohol, for they helped to lessen the effects of the next morning's sicknesses theat resulted from too much alcohol. The clever elf hung the entire bag on Benedick's doorknob, grinning madly as he continued in his journies down the hall. "You lose points, my friend, when you allow yourself to become lost in liquor. I, however, am quite aware of the battle I am fighting." His eyes sparkled in the lamplight as he clucked his tongue.  
  
He discontinued his mirth when he saw Eberon approaching him from across the hall. Sage's smile turned into a frown, while his pace lost its river- quickness and thickened as honey. "Greetings, Your Majesty," he said with a composed face. "You are enjoying your stay in Sunset City, I expect?"  
  
The younger elf king looked at Sage with a veiled contempt, grinning at him as if out of some greater wisdom. "Oh, yes, most definitely Sage. Thank you for your concern over my well-being."  
  
Sage noted his behavior. The young elf has wicked thoughts on his mind, I would bet my right hand on it. From whence does he earn this disrespectful sarcasm? He has not changed, although he puts a different face on for Sarah and the other royalty. You would be wise to know, young fool, that I am not the old, helpless elf you have taken me for, now, or in the past. He discontinued his thoughts with a wry smile similar to Eberon's. "Why, I am constantly in curiosity over your health, young elf. Since your father's departure, I have made it my responsibility to keep an eye on your living. I should not consider myself a good man if I did not take concern over my close friend's son in his wake."  
  
"Well, you need not worry about me, Sage for my living is not your responsibility, and I hope you do not burden yourself over undue concern," Eberon replied, his head cocked to the side in arrogance. "Speaking of well- being, you look very fit, good Sage. The Queen has taken splendid care of you."  
  
"Friends take care of each other. That is truly the way of things."  
  
"Well, thank the heavens that I have been put into the throne and can be a better man for having no one care for me." His eyes slanted shrewdly and he put his hands behind his back. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to."  
  
With no more words said, he turned and walked toward his chambers. Sage watched silently a moment as the impertinent young elf walked away, his fine cape glittering beneath the glow of the candles lining the walls. It is truly no trouble, dearest Eberon. I will watch you as if my life depended upon it. Perhaps it shall, someday. Just as Sage had completed his musings, he turned and ran into a frustrated Hoggle, who was apparently returning from a visit to Sarah's chambers.  
  
"Oh, sorry Sage, didn't see you coming," he grunted, continuing his hurried pace down the hall.  
  
Sage grabbed the dwarf by the shoulders and turned him so that they were face to face. "Not so fast, my friend, what is the need for haste?"  
  
"No big deal. Only that Sarah's bein' stubborn as a goat, if I ever did see one. 'Well, you think it was Jareth standin' out there?' I ask her. 'No, leave me be, it don't matter,' she says. 'You sure looked like you seen a ghost out there,' I says. 'Well, you were imaginin' things,' she says to me. Fancy that! I was imaginin' things! 'Old Hoggle's no fool, he knows what he saw,' I say. 'Well, then, you can see the door. Leave by it.' She kicked me out of her room! I ain't ever seen her act like that! I could spit fire right now!"  
  
Sage furrowed his brow and put his finger to his chin in thought. "That is very queer behavior for Sarah, indeed."  
  
"I know that was Jareth, with every ounce of my bein'. The old rat's come to claim his kingdom, now that she's done come and fixed it up for him. I bet that was his game all along. Why that snake, I'd--"  
  
"Now, now, let us not be quick to conclusions, Hoggle. However, if Sarah does think she saw Jareth, do you think it would be easy for her to admit it to herself that she had? I think that her fright over seeing him again is most likely the cause of her strange behavior. Trust me, she will be herself in the morning and apologize to you for her harsh words."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose yer right. By the sky, I know I've been that difficult and more to her when she has tried to help me in the past. Maybe we can --"  
  
"Am I allowed in this little convocation?" Leah asked as she descended the stairs, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.  
  
"She got ya too?" Hoggle said.  
  
"Oh no, she didn't get me and I didn't get her. She just evaded the whole issue, expertly and with the touch of an experienced politician. Apparently she had gotten the fire out of her blood by the time you left, Hoggle."  
  
Sage rose his hands, palms outward, and said, "Now, I would advise that everyone calm down a bit, you have all made up your minds --"  
  
"That Jareth is roaming around the castle, waiting any minute to strike? I sure as Hell believe it. You're not going to try to satiate me, as Sarah did, now are you, Sage?"  
  
"No, but I am going to urge you to calm down and look at the whole issue logically. Let us assume, first, that this person is just a normal man, trying to woo a beautiful woman. He has not acted in any way out of character for a gentleman, and he has merely hidden his identity in the fashion typical of a masquerade ball, and has picked up rather dramatically on the whole mysterious atmosphere that the entire fortnight is to possess. Now, it truly should not matter to you who this man is. Would you expect me to take on a companion less than worthy of Sarah's company?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right, I forgot," Hoggle said, the wrinkles in his face lessening as a result of a new thought. "Sage knows him. He's gotta be okay. Sage would never get hung up with the likes of Jareth."  
  
"You are correct in one very important thing, Hoggle; I would never have a close friendship with anyone who behaved as Jareth did when I knew him four years ago."  
  
"That means we don't have anything to worry about from this guy then, right?" Leah asked, her eyes still angled in suspicion.  
  
"He would not harm a fly. Take my word. I will clear up the issue with Sarah."  
  
"I'm glad to know it," Hoggle said, his shoulders relaxing noticeably. "If that's the case, I'll leave Sarah to you and go finish preparing for my trip on the morrow. I gotta get my folks and bring'em here."  
  
"I almost forgot, in the confusion. When do you leave, Hoggle?" Sage asked.  
  
"At the crack of dawn. I should be back in time for the opening of the Labyrinth. The Spangores have offered to take me."  
  
"That is excellent. I hope that you have a safe journey."  
  
"Good evenin', Sage. Good evenin', Missy."  
  
Leah smiled wearily. "Good night, Hoggle."  
  
"Yes, Good Night, good man." As Hoggle departed, Sage chuckled and said, "Well, now, we have had quite an exciting day."  
  
Leah turned to give him a piercing gaze. "Sage, I have always trusted you, but, I still have suspicions. I still feel in my bones that the man we saw tonight was Jareth. If it is, if he so much as shows his face, I will do whatever is in my power to rid the kingdom of his presence. I do not trust him, and I would hate for Sarah to lose what precious things she has worked so hard for in the past few years. Especially her peace of mind. I saw how she had her hopes hung on his return four years ago, and I knew long before she finally figured it out that he wouldn't come back. I will not let him toy with her emotions as he once did. I used to think she'd be strong enough to encounter him again and get rid of him, but, after tonight, I am not so sure. A part of her is still in love with him - God knows why - and she has too much at stake to get lost in the confusion he is so talented in creating. I know you will do what's best for her, in your own mind, Sage, but you need to know my position."  
  
"You do not trust me, then, or my judgement?" Sage observed softly.  
  
"You never once denied that it was Jareth. I know you well enough to know that you would have said it outright if it hadn't been him."  
  
"I cannot say anything, but you are very wise, wise beyond your years. Dear Leah, the only advice I can offer is for you to look beyond the surface. If you think I love Sarah and would not put her in harm's way, if you value me as a good and wise man, then you will see a contradiction between what you perceive me to be doing and what it is likely that I am doing. If you believe me to be a consistent and honest man, then be aware that my consistency will not falter in any situation." He held her hand gently between his own slender hands and smiled. "You are truly a good friend to our Queen. She is indeed a lucky woman to have friends such as you and Hoggle. If you value me or my friendship any, I beg you to keep silent about your thoughts until you perceive a danger."  
  
"Very well, if you wish me to."  
  
"Thank you most kindly." He released her hands from his grasp and his smile became a weary one. "Now, my dear, if you will escuse me, I must go speak with Sarah myself."  
  
"Yes, I think you should."  
  
"Good night, Leah. Have good rest."  
  
"I will try. I hope you have a pleasant rest, too, Sage." She turned around and walked toward her quarters, her sneakers peeking from beneath her gown.  
  
What a remarkable young woman... I have never seen anyone have such extreme bouts of anger and wit, balancing caution with consideration. Her love for her friend is also amazing. I knew a young man like that once, but his friendship is far away from me in time. I wonder what ever happened to him? Ah, well, tis no matter, now is the time to see how Sarah is doing.  
  
* * *  
  
Outside, in the courtyard, a small group of sundry creatures, mostly elves, had gathered to enjoy the wine and weather. Sir Didymus had found himself at the center of a small crowd, telling stories of his bravery, as had become the custom of late. His usually keen balance seemed a bit awry, and his speech was sometimes less than perfectly crisp, but he had not stopped his narrative for an instant. He was relating an adventure he had had with Sarah in which he, Sarah, and Ludo were attempting to enter the Goblin City nine years ago to recapture Toby; he thought it fitting for the occassion. His elf friend Anala was sitting beside him, her golden curls sparkling as brightly as her eyes.  
  
"I do thay, the goblin chapth were thleeping at the doorth of the, the, ah, the Goblin Thity. What louthy fellowth, tho terrible a job of guarding if I dare thay tho."  
  
"What did you do then, Didymus?" Anala asked, surely having heard the story a million times, but no doubt loving to urge him to continue with his favorite past-time -- bragging. It often proved humorous.  
  
"The only thing I could," he replied matter-of-factly. He bent over and put his nose before a random elf's face, and said, "I thnuck up quietly, like tho, and I..." he paused a moment for drama, stumbling in an effort to keep standing in such a bent-over position. "I THOUTED FOR HIM TO WAKE UP AND LET UTH IN THAT INSTANT, I MOST THERTAINLY DID!!!"  
  
The elf sat silently a moment while Didymus stood in his place, seeming either to wait for a reaction or figure out what it was he had been saying only a moment ago. "Er, what wath I driving at?" he finally said, as he moved his jaw with embarrassment from side to side.  
  
"Is that alcohol on your breath, Didymus?" the young elf said with simple curiosity.  
  
Didymus stood up, gallantly thrust his staff before him, swayed a bit, and slurringly replied, "I hath... nether touched a drop of that stuff in my life, and I am inthulted that thou shoulsdth thuggest thuch a thing."  
  
One elf broke out into riotous laughter, and Anala shouted, "Stop it, Gingha, you shouldn't mock him!"  
  
"Oh, oh I can't help it! He is such a doof!" Gingha replied, holding his sides in his mirth.  
  
"I do declare, Didymus," Anala said softly, attempting to keep from laughing herself, "you appear to be a bit snarzled."  
  
"Tharnzled? Not I!" In his excitement he thrust his staff, which went flying from his ill-responsive hand and nearly hit the riotous Ginghis. Ginghis glanced a moment at his possible peril, then broke out into even more riotous laughter.  
  
"Ginghis, you snaswharfed his drink, didn't you? I declare, you naughty elf, you know better than to snaswharf such a noble knight!"  
  
"You, you thathwharfed my dwink?" Sir Didymus said in a confusion that was slowly evolving into angered understanding. "To arms, then, Thir! I demand a battle to mine honor!"  
  
Anala went to him and held him by the shoulders, coaxing, "Now, now, my dear Didymus, you are fairly snarzled and Ginghis is a superb swordsman. I don't suggtest you make any such suggestion right now. Think about it a minute."  
  
"Think! You thuggest I think about it?"  
  
"Yes, wait. Be cautious."  
  
"Be cauthious? Why never! I am a noble Knight! I fear no one! No one tarnithes mine armor and geth away with it! En garde!"  
  
Ginghis pulled out his small elvin sword, laughing all the while. "If you wish it, noble Knight, but I will make a fool of you yet."  
  
"No one makes of fool of me!!" the fox shouted, then lunged drunkenly at the young elf, who merely stepped aside to avoid the point of his blade. The fox landed with a thump on the tile floor.  
  
"Stop while you're ahead, fox, I don't want to hurt you," Ginghis said with half sarcasm, half sincerity.  
  
"Stop it, Ginghis, he doesn't know what he's doing. You've already done enough harm, now let him be," Anala begged.  
  
Sir Didymus lifted his head with difficulty and said, "I know exathly what I'm doing."  
  
Ginghis shrugged his shoulders and smiled wanly out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm telling you, the doof hasn't had enough. He's bent on skewering me."  
  
"Oh, you impossible elfling boy!" Anala cried in frustration. She ran to help Didymus stand up. "Come on, Didymus, that's enough fighting for one night."  
  
"Not unthil my honor ist requited!" Didymus shouted, whipping his sword before Ginghis' still figure. With a few deft motions of Ginghis hand, Didymus' trousers were on the floor. Didymus looked down, pulled his trousers up as quickly as he possibly could in his state, then turned around solemnly, head hung.  
  
"Now see what you've done, you are a fine comedian! His feelings are injured! Who's the doof now?" Anala stood before him, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.  
  
"What can I say? I'm sorry for him. I didn't know his feelings would be hurt so by it." Ginghis sheathed his sword. "But, I tell you, it would have not nearly frustrated the chap so badly if he would learn more self- control."  
  
"Like you, you prankster?"  
  
"Ah, who needs my mother when I have you, Anala?" He chuckled good- naturedly and said, "I am truly sorry. I will apologize to him tomorrow, when he is less likely to kill me."  
  
"Yes, maybe you will be less snarzled by tomorrow, yourself," she answered, lessening her severe expression only fractionally. She turned to see Didymus sitting on a bench, his head hung. She found him a hot, sobering drink from a nearby refreshment table, and brought it to him. "Here you go, Didymus, this drink will clear the haze a bit. But, be careful, it is hot."  
  
The fox took the drink quietly, and lapped up a good portion of it. "Thank you, Anala, I feel much better."  
  
There were a few moments of silence before Anala said, "Do not be too angry at Ginghis... He is used to playing his pranks among elves, who are much used to such foolishness. He didn't think of the consequences. He is truly sorry for upsetting you."  
  
"If I hadst not been so quick to battle, I would not have been stripped of my honor or my... clothing." Didymus sighed heavily and finally said, "Anala, dost thou think I am brave?"  
  
"Why, yes Didymus, why do you ask that?"  
  
"I do not know... I feel very foolish presently, not much like a knight at all."  
  
Anala sighed, then said, "How long have we known each other, Didymus?"  
  
"Since I met you in the forest four years ago, when the others and I were reunited with Sarah on our last quest."  
  
"That is four years, then," Anala observed. "In that time, I have noticed some very loveable, yet sometimes hurtful, patterns in your behavior."  
  
"Please tell me then, fair maiden. I am much at a loss if I have not confronted the unknightly things in my own behavior."  
  
Anala swept a golden lock from her hair, and held Didymus' paws between her hands. Nearby the group began to disperse, and creatures said their goodbyes. "I will relate to you a story that should help you to understand. As a matter of fact, it's the very story you started to tell tonight." From her tunic, Anala brandished a talisman that glowed and pulsated with light. The very air seemed to fog as the image of the events she was preparing to describe came before them. In the image, Didymus was beating on the helmet of the sleeping Goblin Guard. "Do you remember how you were so unafraid of who was up against you?" Anala said, her voice distant. Sir Didymus' image shouted, 'Open up, I say!' Sarah stood beside him, looking extremely distraught. 'Please,' she pleaded in hushed tones, trying to calm the excited Didymus and get him to be quiet.  
  
"You remember how Sarah tried to quiet you, but you were adamant that you could face them all?" Anala asked.  
  
'Let them all wake up!' Didymus' image cried as he continued his beating. 'I shall fight them all to the death!'  
  
'Please! Please, Sir Didymus. For my sake, could you please try to make no noise?' Sarah begged.  
  
Anala spoke in the background, "Now, Didymus, why barge in when it is safer to sneak? You do not wake the owner of the house you are trying to break into. Now, see what you said in reply to her pleading:"  
  
'But of course,' Didymus assured her. 'For thee, anything. But I am not a coward?'  
  
'Oh, no,' she replied adamantly.  
  
'And my sense of smell is keen?'  
  
'Oh, yes!'  
  
'Then I shall fight anyone, anywhere, anytime!' Didymus shouted in a crescendo, to which Sarah responded by holding her hand over his mouth.  
  
Anala put her hand on Didymus' shoulder and the image before them disappeared. Her voice lost its echo. "Do you remember what happened when you finally went through the gates?"  
  
"I remember as I remember my own name," Didymus replied. "We were greeted by a large Goblin robot that attempted to remove our heads from our bodies."  
  
"Yes, that is right. Have you ever wondered if perhaps your noise hadn't warned the goblins of your approach? Perhaps you could have avoided the robot and the battle within the goblin city, as well."  
  
"But, I performed well in battle, as a knight must. A knight must have battles, mustn't he?"  
  
Anala chuckled kindly. "Yes, but even a knight must choose his battles. The valor you display is what we elves like to call bandarat. It is a kind of courage that is foolhardy, without caution. You wouldn't have lost your pants if you had not prompted Ginghis to fight. You are truly a brave fox, Didymus, but you seek too often to prove your bravery. The best of knights use their bravery in battle only when absolutely necessary, and sometimes must use their bravery to avoid a fight. Do you understand what I am saying?"  
  
"My ear is perked to thine explanation in great sadness, Lady. I understand all that you have said, and feel I must tend to it immediately. I see how little of a knight I hath been, and I must requite my foolish behavior. Thank you for your observations. I must go and tend to Ambrosius, now. It is his feeding time."  
  
"Oh, wait, Didymus! You are taking this all wrong!" Anala exclaimed to his retreating figure. He did not stop at her calls, and continued to walk toward the stables, clutching the waistline of his pants and hanging his head in despair. "Oh, Didymus," Anala sighed quietly to herself as she sat down. "Sometimes you can be a doof. I just hope you don't hurt yourself by going the other extreme."  
  
* * *  
  
Sage eased open Sarah's door and walked in on softly-soled feet. Sarah looked up from where she was writing on a scroll, but quickly turned back to her work. "Now you've come to fret over me, I see."  
  
"Well, you have made quite a scene this evening, I don't see why not. What is the matter, Sarah?" Sage closed the door behind himself and came to her side.  
  
"Perhaps I don't wish to speak of it," Sarah replied. "I have a great many other things on my mind presently, without having to think of what happened earlier this evening. I will sort it out when I have time, on my own. It is truly no one else's concern."  
  
"You are so very wrong, Sarah. It is the concern of all of your friends. It is our job to rush to your aid when you have a problem. You can only be so brave, Sarah. You need friends to lean on in times of great distress."  
  
Sarah dropped her quill pen and turned about suddenly. "The only distress I have at the moment is the planning of several asundry events for the morrow, and that is enough, thank you very much. So, please, leave me be. I have enough to worry about." She seemed to pause to await Sage's reaction.  
  
It took him a few moments to gather his speech, and he finally said, "You have never behaved so badly to any of your companions, Sarah. I do not appreciate your unwarranted mistreatment of me or Hoggle or Leah, for that matter. You have drowned out the shouting of your brain for a long time with your work, but it must stop at the point where it begins to hurt others. You cannot forget your love for Jareth by shouting over it with letters and numbers and speeches and festivals."  
  
"What did you say?" Sarah cried in bewilderment.  
  
"You know exactly what I have said, Sarah. And you know it is right. Regardless of whether or not the man you met is Jareth, you cannot hide from your feelings for him forever."  
  
"I will have you know, Sage, that Jareth chose his destiny with me long ago, when he was too coward to show his face again." Sarah rose from her seat and stood before Sage with a bitter countenance. "Jareth has long been dead in my heart, my friend, and I have no desire to meet him again. The feeling I had tonight was uncontrollable anger. I believed indeed that it was Jareth standing before me, and it was my confusion and hatred that caused me to leave the festivities. However, if you truly wish to know what has been on my mind, I have decided that you would never be so treacherous as to put Jareth in your friendship, let alone inflict pain on me by so obviously putting him in my path again. Besides, that man acted nothing like Jareth, even if he did briefly sound like him. So, dear Sage, this matter is closed, and we shall not speak of Jareth again."  
  
Sarah prepared to return to her seat at the desk, but Sage spoke before she could finish her journey. "On the contrary, my queen, you will sit down and hear all of that which I have to say."  
  
Slowly Sarah swivelled about, astonished by the commandment in his tone. "If you wish, but I do not take kindly to you ordering me around in such a fashion."  
  
"Well, dear Sarah, I do not appreciate how short you have been with me tonight, either. You may be a queen, but you forget that my wisdom is indeed greater than yours. So, please sit and hear all I have to say. You owe me that much as your friend."  
  
Sarah sat down upon her bed, her face recovering from slight shock. "Very well, I have done as you have asked. Speak freely."  
  
"You have grown strong and wise, Sarah, but seem to be a bit lacking in matters concerning yourself." Sage paced the room, his hands behind his back. "I know for a fact that you have not forgotten Jareth as easily as you like to pretend. I would understand if you had merely forgotten him, and moved on with your life, but you have not done so. You have longed greatly for him, and still do to this day, and you have tried to drown out your heart with anger. You could not bear your anger, however, so you tried to drown it out by working harder, Sarah. I believe you are an excellent queen, but you have taken your duty to the level of compulsion. I can no longer stand by while your frustration over your true unhappines is causing you to injure your caring friends. Now, please, let go of your anger, and admit your love for Jareth. It will cost you no dishonor."  
  
Sarah looked at him with trance-like eyes, and answered with unshaking voice, "You are wrong. I bear no love for him. You are wrong."  
  
Sage looked her in the eye, stopped his pacing, narrowed his eyes and said, "Is that so?" Carefully, he turned to face her desk, then back to face her. "We shall see."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Sarah asked with slight confusion, but with a vague understanding that seemed to push her composed expression to one of anxiety.  
  
Sage did not answer, but went to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out the crystal sphere that was housed there. He held it high above his head, almost as a dramatic gesture. Sarah rose suddenly from her seated position, but did not seem to have the strength to move any further. Her expression was one of unabaited fear. "Do not do it, Sage, put it down."  
  
"Why not?" Sage asked, lowering the crystal in hopes of her honest reply.  
  
"There is no reason, I just find it to be a pretty ornament to have about," she replied, her expression suggesting nothing of the triviality her words were declaring.  
  
With one swift motion, Sage threw the crystal against the floor. It shattered in a tinkling cascade, its slivers melting quickly away to a watery form before they disappeared. Sarah's face seemed held in the motions of a scream, but no sound came from her mouth. Finally, she gasped, saying, "My, my crystal, you, you shattered it..." She then looked up at Sage, whose expression had softened into pity, and she fell to her knees, covering her eyes as she sobbed. "Oh, God, what a fool I have been!"  
  
Sage walked to her side, and pressed her head against his shoulder. "There, there, it is all right, dear Sarah. Cry all you need. We have shattered a good deal more than this crystal tonight, I should think."  
  
"Sage," she sobbed into his shoulder, "I am so hurt, still, to this day... Never have I found such a match, never have I loved someone so hopelessly... I do not believe I could ever forgive him, even if he were to be standing before my eyes tomorrow, this second! My heart has frozen, I cannot love him again the way I once wished."  
  
Sage stroked her hair gently and answered, "You never know, Sarah. We sometimes have a way of growing beyond our own expectations. Do not wonder if you can love him again. Who knows? He may never show and you may grow beyond this pain. Yet, if he were to show up even this very morrow, you might see your heart thaw like winter snow in the summer sun. Do not make a decision now. Give yourself space. Many things can happen in the space of a few hours. Perhaps, even, you will fall in love again within the next twenty-four hours."  
  
Sarah looked up at his grinning face, wiped her eyes, and responded to his joking with a weary smile. "I very seriously doubt that, my friend, but you can continue to hope. I still say you are trying to woo me yourself."  
  
"Oh, she is on to me!" Sage declared, throwing his head back dramatically. "So much for making you fall in love with me without your own knowledge! I guess I am not as sly as I thought!" 


	10. Chapter 9: The Contest Begins

CHAPTER IX: The Contest Begins  
  
  
  
Sarah opened the door to Isabelle's room, looking slightly flushed and tired. Isabelle turned to see her, the young girl's face glowing in the sunlight that came through her opened curtains. Flowers lay strewn on the table, and she was picking through them gingerly and placing them in her hair.  
  
"Ah, you imp, I knew you had my flowers! I've been looking everywhere for them!" Sarah's manner seemed forcibly gay.  
  
Isabelle smiled and said, "If you knew, then why did you look for them?"  
  
"Aren't you the smart one," Sarah answered as she joined Isabelle in sorting through the blossoms. "This one is lovely," she said, lifting up a white rose and gazing at it.  
  
"Yes, it will go well with your gown," Isabelle replied, gazing into the mirror and grinning.  
  
Sarah gave her a sidelong glance and finally said, "You seem very chipper today."  
  
"Why shouldn't I be?" Isabelle asked sheepishly. "I have been looking forward to this for some months." Isabelle put her hands on her hips and said, "As a matter of fact, I was wondering why you were going to such an effort to pretend to be happy."  
  
"Can't fool anyone around here, now can I?" Sarah said, smirking at her image as she pinned the flower in her hair.  
  
"Not when you do such a foul job," Isabelle countered, chuckling. The young girl bent over to peek out the window. "What is it they're doing out there, in the square? It looks like Sage and some other elves are pulling the large scrying crystal outside. "  
  
"You'll find out, soon enough, dear Isabelle," Sarah replied with a sarcastic grin.  
  
Isabelle looked at her, gave her a sly grin, grabbed her scarf and began to head for the door. She opened it, and, while standing in the doorway, looked back at Sarah. "You think I am the only one who's going to get a surprise today, do you? Well, Your Majesty, the joke's on you."  
  
As she turned around, Sarah exclaimed, "What are you talking about?!"  
  
With a wave of her hand, Isabelle closed the door behind her. Sarah took on an expression of irritation and sighed. "It's Sage, I just know it." With some effort, she returned to her task of grooming. "That's okay, I'll just kick him into the Bog of Eternal Stench if I don't like whatever it is he's up to."  
  
* * *  
  
Benedick was standing on the staircase that led from the throne room, outside to the square. Arms crossed and teeth shining, he seemed to be enjoying observing the commotion below. Other felines poured into the city, and he watched as some young kittens snatched a ball of yarn from a nearby booth of the Weavers' Guild. He chuckled good-humoredly as the other creature proceeded to chase the limber kitten about. "Watch the lad, he bites!" Benedick called from his high position. Just as he finished his words, the door opened and Sarah emerged, her white, silk dress reflected brightly in the springtime sun. Her long curls sparkled as her diamond earings. "There is Her Majesty!" Benedick cried happily as he took her hand and kissed it. "Why, I wondered if you would take all day long to dress!"  
  
"No, I am finally done," Sarah replied, smiling in spite of herself. "Has Hoggle yet arrived with his parents?"  
  
"'Fraid not, the Hiddleburys are not yet here. I expect them to be here before the turning of the hour, though." The tall feline led her down the staircase and onto the cobblestone streets.  
  
"You are being quite the gentleman today," Sarah commented, smiling. "You aren't afraid of causing a scandal, I see. It is quite odd for the king and queen of two different kingdoms to go prancing about the street, hand-in- hand, without an entourage behind them."  
  
Benedick's grin grew in size. "As a matter of fact, with all due respect, Your Majesty, I am trying to cause a scandal."  
  
"And why is that, my fine feline?" Sarah asked, narrowing her eyes mirthfully.  
  
"Sage may try to woo you, but it is I who have the better qualities for a queen as yourself. He has been foolish not to cause a scandal, himself. Now your minions will see us together and swoon, 'Oh, what a marvelous match!' and they will immediately demand that we be wed." He emphasized the wishes of the kingdom by putting his hand to his brow in a dramatic fashion.  
  
"And, by winning my hand, you will have finally beaten Sage, am I correct?" Sarah asked with a chuckle.  
  
"Aye, you are quite the woman! Sharp as the sharpest blade! I do believe we shall be wed, after all!"  
  
Sarah broke out into a fit of laughter. "I daresay, you and Sage will have me dead of laughter before you even get the opportunity to propose to me."  
  
Benedick's laugh trailed off as he looked about in expectation. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He patted his slightly-fingered paw atop Sarah's hand and said, "Be it far from me to be the bringer of solemn issues, but Sage has given me the task."  
  
Sarah looked away from analyzing the surroundings and moved now-troubled gaze to the cat. "What is it, Benedick?"  
  
He knitted his brow and gritted his teeth, almost dramatically. "Sage has asked you to let him resign."  
  
Sarah's eyes lit up with surprise. "What!?"  
  
"Yes," Benedick said, shaking his head mournfully. "He has decided to become a lonely ascetic. Last night the old fool left some Randwine berries on my doorknob, implying that such a king as myself would reduce my self to drunkenness... The chap felt quite terrible for playing tricks on me, so he thought he would take on a life of termoil and solitude so that-- why are you laughing? I am completely serious!"  
  
Sarah let go of his arm in her mirth. "Oh, you devil! Now really, that was way over the top!" She regained control of herself and finally said, her lips pursing, "Now, really, was there something you needed to tell me?"  
  
"Ah, well, yes, I just thought I might give you a laugh, first."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
There was a pause. Sarah motioned for him to continue.  
  
Benedick bit his lip thoughtfully. "What was I saying?"  
  
"Oh, do get on with it!" Sarah said, sitting down at a nearby bench. Benedick sat down beide her.  
  
"Very well, then." He looked her in the eye. "In all seriousness, now, we -- that is, me and Sage...that is, Sage and I -- were both concerned about last night. You know, when you left. Well, the gentleman has been concerned about you, as well, and wonders if you will still be so gracious as to give a peek to his work. Of course, if you're uncomfortable with the prospect, I'll tell him--"  
  
Sarah smiled graciously at him. "No, no, I promised him I would come. Besides, my worries of last evening may not have passed completely, but I do think they were a bit presumptious. I would love to see his work."  
  
Benedick slapped his knees energetically. "Very well, then, it's settled. That wasn't so bad after all!" He stood up and held out his hand to assist the queen in rising.  
  
"You don't like confrontations, do you?" Sarah inquired as she straightened out her dress.  
  
Benedick looped his arm through hers. "Well, in all honesty, I don't like pushing a woman about any issue in which she is troubled. Men are different."  
  
Sarah grinned at him mischieveously. "In my world, your differing treatment of women and men is called sexism. You would be a chauvenist pig."  
  
Benedick looked confused. "Sex what? I would be called a pig? Is that suppoed to be an insult?"  
  
"Yes," Sarah answered, chuckling at his ignorance.  
  
"Well, I'll have you know, some of my very best friends were pigs."  
  
"Really?" Sarah asked, wondering if he was joking. In the Underground, nothing would surprise her.  
  
"Yes!" he replied incredulously. "Did you think I was joking?"  
  
"I am so sorry," she answered sincerely. "I hope I didn't insult you."  
  
He grinned suddenly. "Oh no, not at all. I was just referring to Sage!"  
  
Benedick jumped suddenly. Sage shoved him aside in his shock and slipped his arm through Sarah's. He looked up at Sarah with a playful grin on his lips. "He is one to talk, the snarzled old fool... I am sure, my dear, that you have never seen two old men behave so badly."  
  
"You should have met my grandparents. You are nothing compared to them. Or my real mother..." Sarah chuckled, her eyes hazing over with thought. "Those were great times."  
  
"Perhaps you shall go home again sometime soon. Benedick was telling me of Toby."  
  
Benedick slipped his arm about on Sarah's other side. "Yes, you would surely need to take care of that problem, and you could visit your Mum and Pap."  
  
"Perhaps --  
  
"Well, this lovely lady has quite'n escort!" an Irish man exclaimed from his booth. Sarah was sure this is where the two men were leading her, for easels had been set up with covered canvases sitting atop them. Giving the vocal man a once-over, she saw the red, curly hair and beard characteristic of Irish men, and the playful smile she always envisioned as being necessary, as well. She unentwined her arms from her companions, and approached the man.  
  
"Are you in charge of this booth?" Sarah asked cordially.  
  
"Why, no, Your Majesty, my friend is the owner and manger, so to speak... He's up to something-or-other, at the moment, but he told me to be expectin' yer pretty face. He told me to show you whatever it is you'd like to see, or to tell you whatever it is you'd like to know."  
  
With a languid gaze, Sarah approached one of the paintings and lifted its linen cover. "He did, now, did he?" she replied absentmindedly as she looked at the painting. Benedick and Sage watched her from afar, exchanging curious glances amongst themselves.  
  
The painting was very expressionistic, with dark greens, blues, and browns. Its dried-oil paint surface shimmered slightly in the light, and made the subject matter somewhat difficult to discern. Sarah turned her head to the side to move the glare from her vision, and could just barely tell what it was, not due to a residual glare, but to the hazy nature of the image. It was a deep, dark forest. A young girl wearing white seemed lost in the foliage, but it was impossible to tell what she looked like, for her back was to the viewer. The only distinguishing feature that could be seen was a wisp of brown hair. Sarah was immediately struck by the painting's ethereal beauty, and was further engaged in curiosity over the man's origin.  
  
She moved to another painting, and said, as if she were lost in a trance, "What is your name, good sir?"  
  
"Why, 'tis Granen. Granen McNeil, if it pleases Your Majesty."  
  
"Does your friend have a name?" she asked, gazing into yet another canvas; the same woman was in it, her back turned to the audience as in the last painting.  
  
"Why, what a strange question!" he exclaimed. "I suppose that your curiosity has something to do with his tomfoolery. Yes, Your Majesty, his name is Pandor."  
  
"Where do you sirs come from?" she asked, finally looking up to face him. "A land nearby?"  
  
"Nay, I'm afraid, Your Highness, that places in these parts be too noisy for us. We just live in a serene stretch of land to the west of the elvin kingdom."  
  
"Do you? You are farmers, then?"  
  
"We make do for ourselves, ma'am, but I wouldn't say that we produce a bumper crop. We own one horse and a cow -- As if I have a clue as to why he doesn't just buy another horse, but he says he can walk everywhere... If you haven't decided this already for yourself, Your Majesty, my companion's quite a unique fellow."  
  
Sarah moved to stand before him and looked him in the eye. "He certainly is. His paintings are marvelous, but all have a similar subject matter. Do you have a painting to recommend to me to see?"  
  
"Why, yes. There is one in particular he wished me to show you. He told me to tell you first that he acquired the source of the picture from a local gazette. The picture he used was in black ink... He did a marvelous job of reproducing it, I think."  
  
"Well, I shall be happy to see it," Sarah answered with a genteel smile.  
  
Granen pulled a covered canvas from beneath the table. "This one's not for sale," he commented in explanation to the location of the piece. "It's really quite beautiful, Your Majesty. His best work. He didn't show it to me until yesterday."  
  
Sarah reached out her hand to lift the linen cloth. "May I?"  
  
"By all means."  
  
She pulled back the cover and sucked in a breath. She was face-to-face with herself, but in a way she never had been before. A crown of flowers adorned her head and she sat atop a fallen tree. Nearby, a waterfall splashed while ephermerous little fairies danced about her figure. Suddenly, she was reminded of her daydreamings as a child; this picture is exactly what she had expected a place like the Underground to be. Full of beauty and strange, mythical creatures. Nature at her highest. Woman at her best. Simple happiness.  
  
"I have never seen him undertake such a complex piece of work, Your Majesty. You would think, by the accuracy of the picture, that he had met you before. Of course, he is quite talented and is able to visualize his subjects easily. He has quite taken to you, I believe, though you didn't here it from my mouth."  
  
Sarah touched the surface with the tips of her fingers. "It would seem he has..."  
  
Sage gave Benedick a knowing look and smiled.  
  
Finally, Sarah looked up from her reverie and said, in a very businesslike fashion, unrevealing of any emotion, "Well, thank you, Mr. McNeil, for taking the time to show me his pieces. Tell Mr. Pandor that, if he should like, I would wish him to be my court painter."  
  
Granen seemed taken aback. "Why, yes, Your Majesty. I am sure he will accept."  
  
"Thank you. I hope you have good sales."  
  
"Again, I thank you for your kindness."  
  
Sarah began to walk away, then turned around suddenly. "Is this painting truly not for sale?" Sarah inquired, almost as an afterthought.  
  
"Why, no Your Highness, it is not... Pandor would not dream of making you purchase it. As a matter of fact, he asked me to give it to you if you should inquire as to its cost."  
  
This time, it was Sarah who looked shocked. "Why, I am speechless. Are you sure that I should give him no payment?"  
  
"No, Youir Majesty," he answered, covering it again. "If your companions would be so kind, I will give it to them to carry into the castle, right this minute."  
  
"Well, then, tell him how very much I appreciate this gift. Also tell him to come to me this evening in regards to his job offering. I should enjoy speaking to him again."  
  
As he handed the painting over to Sage and Benedick, the man declared, "Knowing him, you won't have to wait too long. I am sure you will see him sooner than this evening."  
  
"Really? When do you think?"  
  
"I am not sure, to be honest. No telling what tomfoolery he's up to right now."  
  
* * *  
  
A great crowd drew about a group of large, horse-sized birds that had landed in a smaller square in the city. These birds were the Spangores, a group of fast-flying beasts that lived atop the peaks of the nearby Shadow Mountains. They were the Air Force of the Underground; sometimes they were called to transport people great distances, as they had this day. Once they were firmly settled and the crowd backed away, Hoggle dismounted his bird and went to assist his parents.  
  
"I still don't see why we didn't just use a buggy 'n just leave a little earlier... My joints are killing me with that cold wind!" Mr. Hiddlebury complained as he stepped to the ground and accepted the cane that Hoggle proffered him.  
  
Hoggle scrunched up his brow and remained silent, merely moving to the other side of the bird to help his mother down. "Thank you, Hoggle Jr. You have been quite the gentleman today."  
  
Hoggle smiled slightly. "Thanks Mama."  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury walked brusquely over to Hoggle Sr. in order to assist him in his walking. "You cranky old man, the wind wasn't cold at all. You leave our son alone. I thought it was quite an exciting ride. He's done more than enough to lessen the inconvenience of this journey. If we had gone in a buggy, you still would be complainin' about the bumpy ride. 'Oh, my joints!' you'd say. So--"  
  
"Oh, do be quiet, woman! You're hurtin' my ears with your shriekin'." He shook her arm off and continued the walk on his own.  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury stayed back, crossing her arms. Hoggle came beside her. "I tell you what, son-- He's gotten crankier and more antisocial than usual, if it's possible. Lost whatever bit'a grace he had. I wish he wouldn't be so ornery. I try ta be patient with'im, but--"  
  
Hoggle put a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. "Dontcha worry about it, Mama. You're doin' the best you can."  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury wasn't too far ahead of them, and he suddenly lost his balance and began to stumble. Hoggle rushed over to his side. "You okay, Papa?"  
  
The old man worked to catch his breath. "Just -- just lost my balance a moment. It's nothing to worry about, you can let me go."  
  
Hoggle could cleary see that he was in more pain than he admitted. It was likely that he hadn't been just spouting nonsense about his aching joints, and that it was true that his joints hurt no matter the situation. "Papa, I've read about this, you know, your getting-older-pains, and I think we might be able t'buy you some ointment at the apothecary that'll make it hurt less."  
  
"I don't need no ointment! It ain't that bad!" he shouted suddenly, crumpling up again with the effort required to shout.  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury stood a few steps back, a tear trickling out of her eye.  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury resisted Hoggle's efforts to help, but Hoggle finally took a firm, commanding grasp on the old man's arm. "I won't hear of it," Hoggle said with a sudden forcefulness. "That's just the Hiddlebury stubborness speakin'... I ain't goin' to sit by while you're ignorin' a curable pain. We're goin' to the apothecary this instant. And then we're goin'ta sit down at the chairs in the square and you're goin'ta rest, and I'm gonna be a damned fool and run back and forth bringin' you drinks and food, and I'm gonna get you so drunk that I won't have to hear you complain anymore, you got that?"  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury merely grunted, but did not put up anymore resistance. Mrs. Hiddlebury wiped the tear from her face and smiled in spite of herself.  
  
As if I can guess why I love you so much, you old fool, you, Hoggle thought to himself sadly. You keep this up and you're gonna die sooner than you have to. I know you're scared, Papa. I'm scared for ya, too. But we'll get through this. I'll make you enjoy your last days, if I have to die tryin'.  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah was sitting in her throne only an hour before noon, looking over the festivities outdoors. She had explored all of the booths, shook many hands, and even been given the opportunity to see Hoggle's parents. It was now the time for a brief rest; a glass of red wine dangled in her left hand, her chin sitting thoughtfully in her right. After her conversation with Sage from the evening before, she had found herself freely thinking about things she had avoided for the past couple of years. She was no longer sure whether or not she loved Jareth. Even at the somewhat more responsible age of twenty, there was quite a bit of infatuation involved with her judgement of the man and his charms. Something had always told her that there was more beneath the surface, something special and sweet that could add an element of happiness to her life, but he had rarely shown it, and, once it seemed things would be perfect, he disappeared from her life. Four years of his absence had made her think that she was wrong about him.  
  
So, if he was not the man she hoped, then why should she constrain her love to a suffering and hopeless one? The wooing jokes of Sage and Benedick had brought new thoughts to her restless mind and new feelings to her restless heart. Certainly she was appealing to other men? Surely there were other men out there with charms and steadfast love to boot? This Pandor seemed to be a promising beginning for her new "dating" life. She knew she was attractive and intelligent, but she had always latched onto men who made her suffer in order for them to reveal their feelings or affections toward her. Jareth had made her to suffer for five years.  
  
No. She had chosen to suffer. It was her own stubbornness and unwillingness to get on with life that had made her miserable beneath the surface. But, it didn't have to stay that way. Things could change. She could begin things anew, realizing the powerful self that she possessed, could move onto a new, self-appreciating life that made her choose only the man who would worship her equally as she worshiped him.  
  
Someone who would bring her flowers instead of games. Love instead of pain. A maze with a hope of a solution.  
  
"Your majesty?"  
  
Sarah looked up, startled, to see Sir Didymus standing before her. "Yes, Didymus?"  
  
"There is someone here to see you. A king. He is Kaleb of the Summit of the East."  
  
Sarah sat up in her throne, suddenly very engrossed. "Really? I have never heard of that kingdom, let alone that king. When did he come?"  
  
"Only moments ago. He has a fairly large entourage. If you'd like, I'll be glad to drive him out..."  
  
"No, that won't be necessary, Didyums. How does he look?"  
  
"He is a tall and strong-looking gentleman. He has black hair and looks like he could bite someone. I would be cautious, your majesty. I dost not like the smell of him."  
  
Sarah smiled inwardly as she thought of Didymus' unreliable sense of smell. However, she would be careful. "Please, lead him in, but let his people stay at the gates. I don't want to make a full welcome until I am sure it is safe." Didymus stood erect, saluted, then went off to do his duty. Sarah turned to a servant at her right and said, "Please, send for Sage. Tell him to be quick." The girl curtsied and went to retrieve the queen's advisor.  
  
Sarah leaned back in her chair, once again thoughtful, but suddenly worried. She truly hoped that this man did not bring a threat to her kingdom. Neither did she like the smell of this man. Of course, it couldn't be Jareth -- there, she was doing it again -- but she was wary of anything new, especially a new kingdom appearing beneath her nose without her knowledge. She had sent queries out to the kingdoms once a year, and had done so recently in order to make preparations for the meetings of the kingdoms. She was always delighted to add allies to the league, and kept track of the goings-on about the land. This man's appearance was very suspicious.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" Sage asked as he walked up the steps to the throne, his brow wrinkled with worry.  
  
"I don't know, yet. Didymus just announced the presence of a new king and kingdom to me. The king is outside the gates with his entourage, and he has requested to see me."  
  
"What did you tell Didymus to do?"  
  
"I told him to send the king in. I suppose I should give him audience. I am not usually likely to take head to Didymus' warnings about certain issues, but he has said that he is disturbed by the appearance of this man."  
  
"Perhaps he is no true king? You have scoured the land for kingdoms, and if you didn't find him, then it couldn't be possible for a kingdom to pop up out of nowhere, could there?"  
  
She looked at him, biting her lip in thought. After a moment, she looked at him intensely, and replied, "Maybe. The more I think about this, the less I like it."  
  
"I feel the same," Sage said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "However, we should not let our concerns ruin the festivities for today. It is unlikely that we will have a full-scale battle this evening, so think, but do not act, yet. We will see this king before we make any final judgements."  
  
Sarah looked up and saw Didymus and the king approaching from a distance. She sat up, looking as stately and merry as possible. "Speak of the Devil," she mumbled from the side of her mouth, her teeth pinned together in a wide smile.  
  
"Don't say such things, dear queen, you give me chills."  
  
"It's just a saying."  
  
"I don't like it."  
  
Sarah composed herself. As the man came closer, she could see him better. He was beautiful. Like a black raven. His hair was glistening ebony, and his hair slicked back like feathers. His face was creamy white, with blue eyes glowing beneath two slim eyebrows. His garments were black, adorned with feathers; a glistening amulet contrasted with the darkness of his blouse. Although Didymus described the man as bitter-looking, Sarah could not see any evidence toward such a statement. He smiled flirtatiously, wearing his royalty like a bracelet, a hint of common thoughts crossing his mind as he made eye contact with the queen. His glance made Sarah giddy; she felt like a woman in that stare -- no, more like a woman's body, and the utmost and highest of women's of all. She imagined that she was the subject of Boticelli's painting, Birth of Venus, and that he was analyzing it with respect and an unfettered passion.  
  
He mounted the stairs at Didymus' side, but he did so as if it were he leading Didymus, as opposed to vice versa. Kaleb kneeled before Sarah, took her hand and kissed it, his eyes looking up at her steadily from beneath his slanted eyebrows. His gaze was obvious and obviously meant to be so; Sarah felt oddly thrilled by the pressure he placed upon her hand as he rose. She felt disappointed for him to let her hand out of his grasp.  
  
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness," he said, the words dripping and searing at the same time.  
  
It was all Sarah could do to greet him with an air of queenliness, but, somehow she knew she was doing it rather well, hoping for all the world that he was impressed by her manner. "Hello, Your Majesty. Welcome to our kingdom. I did try to reach all of the kingdoms in order to make invitations to this event; I am sorry to not have reached you, as well. I apologize for the fact that my messengers missed you --"  
  
He lifted his slender hand up, stopping her in mid-speech. "'Tis no trouble, Your Higness. It is by no fault of yours. It is I who would like to apologize for not making our presence known sooner. As I am sure your fine knight here has told you, we are the people of the Summit in the East; we live in the mountains, as a somewhat recluse people. We heard of your festival through nearby sources, and we decided to take this chance to make our people allies with yours. We would like you to get to know us, and, hopefully, to visit our fine kingdom and my castle..." His eyes sparkled at the mention of his castle, his mouth straight and his eyes piercing. The pause seemed to Sarah to last forever. "After which," he continued, "we would like to become members of your League. I hope this offer does not seem presumptuous; we have heard great things about your kingdom and Your Majesty, and we think we could be a help in your cause."  
  
Sarah looked at Sage, and saw his beaming, convincing smile. After knowing Sage for as long as she had, she knew the smile was fake. He was repeatedly bending his forefinger back and forth behind his back, as he always did when he was troubled. She felt herself suddenly powerful --and selfishly so. Despite Sage's obvious concern, she looked back at Kaleb and replied, "By no means do we see this as a presumptuous act. We would be glad to meet your people and consider accepting you into our League. Your people are welcome in our city."  
  
He took her hand again and kissed it. "I will make sure that you do not regret it."  
  
I am sure I shall, but I have never felt myself care less.  
  
* * *  
  
Isabelle stood in the gathering audience that spread out before the queen's throne. She was giddy with excitement, knowing that the secret event that Sarah had planned would soon be revealed. People and creatures alike laughed and joked around her, sang songs, and made merry. The high spirits of the crowd lifted Isabelle another notch; she pushed her way through to find a place at the front. She was soon face to face with the impish Vindar, who almost seemed to have been expecting her, as if they had planned all along to meet in this inconspicuous place within the shifting crowd.  
  
"Hello, Dear Isabelle."  
  
Isabelle looked up at him sheepishly, somewhat ashamed for her strange behavior the night before, somewhat shy about his piercing gaze. For the first time, she admitted to herself how handsome he was. He stood tall above her, took her hand in his, and helped her to the front of the audience. She didn't object. Her consent felt slightly alien to her; to this moment, she had rejected any male contact.  
  
As Vindar led her through the shoving mass of creatures, she thought again of Jareth. His return had softened her heart a bit, she was sure. For so long she had waited for him, and for no one else. With the absence of her "father", she found it difficult to find love for any other man. She still wasn't putting her heart up for grabs, but she could give the tall elf a chance of success. Naturally, she would not make it too easy for him.  
  
He came close to her side, and whispered in her ear, "So, how do you feel about Jareth's homecoming?"  
  
She bent close to reply. "I am very happy. I thought he was dead for some time. Now I feel complete, if that makes any sense. Like I have a mother and a father."  
  
"Who would your mother be?" Vindar asked.  
  
"Why, Sarah, of course."  
  
"That would mean that they should marry, would it not?" he answered, grinning madly, as if he had told her a joke of some sort.  
  
"Naturally," she replied, grinning as well, her crystalline voice tinkling warmly.  
  
He gave her a satisfied smile, then looked to the stage as Sarah climbed the steps to stand before her throne. "Welcome, all, to our fourth day of independence!" she shouted. The crowd cheered, and finally died down enough for the queen to continue. "I am so very happy to see you all here. This celebration will continue for a fortnight -- yes, the treasury can afford to feed all of you starving people for the next two weeks, as well as wet your thirsty throats." The throng laughed hysterically. "I have promised a surprise... Is Isabelle here? Aha, I see you there in the crowd, you little imp. I daresay, is that Vindar with you? You two seem quite merry, I wonder why?"  
  
Isabelle cleared her throat, gingerly moved from the elf's grasp, her face turning visibly red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she consented to an honest, if sheepish, grin.  
  
"Well, Isabelle, you don't have to wait any longer. It is time to reveal the center of our festivities." She turned to face two gentlemen who were standing beside a covered object that sat next to her throne. "Please, dear gents, remove the cloth." They did so dexterously, revealing the large scrying crystal beneath it. It reflected three different entrances into the labyrinth. Sarah turned back to the crowd, beaming. "Over the past year, as some of you may well know, we have made renovations on our labyrinth. In order to test out its effectiveness, and to have a little fun, I have allowed Sage to find me three cunning individuals who must try to solve the labyrinth... They will be cloaked so that I may not know their identities, as not to give any one advantage over the others. They have thirteen hours... Each gets to call on me three times to give them a hint at each obstacle they face that seems too difficult for them to solve on their own. We will all watch their progress through this crystal. How does that sound for the first day's entertainment?" The crowd clapped merrily. "Very well, then. Since I seem to have your approval, I will now ask Sage to bring out the contestants."  
  
Sage came forth, climbing the stairs with three cloaked figures behind him. "Here they are, Your Majesty. They are ready for whatever mental torment you can put them through." A chuckle came from the audience.  
  
"I wish you all the best of luck, though one of you shall have more of it than others, I hate to say. Each of you will get a monetary award for your participation, but the winner shall receive something different. If you be a woman, then you shall get to spend a day within my castle, living in my best guest quarters, and receiving all of the pampering your heart could desire. If you be a man, you will get to have dinner with me, and receive a kiss. From me." Ecstatic whistles emitted from the onlooking throng.  
  
"Trust me, she ain't that bad a kisser," Benedick shouted from the audience.  
  
Sarah laughed in spite of herself. "As if you'd know, you frisky cat. You've never had an opportunity to put your paws on this queen."  
  
"Aye, and I admit so, sadly."  
  
"That is why you are in the audience, and not up here with me!" She chuckled, then turned back to the competitors. "Well, I suppose it is time for you to begin your quest. I will send each of you to a different place at which to begin. Again, I wish you luck." Without further ado, Sarah pulled some sparkling powder from a small sack, threw it over the three figures dramatically, to which they responded by disappearing and reappearing within the depths of the scrying orb. "Well, the games have begun! Now all we have to do is eat, drink, dance, play, and cheer on our racing companions. I officially call this festival to order!" 


	11. Chapter 10: Riddles

CHAPTER X: Riddles  
  
The surrounding crowd disappeared and replaced itself with the golden walls that signaled one of the entrances to the labyrinth. It was somewhat ironic to Jareth to be where he was. How many times had he put Sarah through this same maize obstacle course, with its twists and turns, changing terrain, and creatures galore? It was true that everything would someday come around full circle. But the competition that Jareth was participating in was more than a mere contest to him. It was a battle for life and love.  
  
He looked up resolutely from beneath the overhanging hood of his cape. His feet moved steadily forward as he approached the doors. With a gentle push he opened the doors and made his way into the labyrinth, an all too familiar uncertainty creeping in on him. Though he knew he would beat the other competitors due to his advantage of having been the original creator of the labyrinth, he felt unsteady in his quest, wondering again if he were making the right decision in seeking Sarah out. He felt his shadow inching ever closer to Sunset City, and knew his time was little. However, his courage was failing him, keeping him from openly disclosing his presence to Sarah, even in a time of dire emergency. All of these things he thought as he traversed the beginning corridors of the maze. Thirteen hours to think things over a final time. Once thirteen hours had seemed like an eternity... today they were a mere beating of the heart.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he came upon a shiny part of the wall that, though seemingly solid, led to another hidden part of the labyrinth. It would have been barely noticeable had it not been for the metal plate that hung next to it. On the plate read: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble."  
  
"A riddle. Quaint. And should I solve it now, or later?" Jareth mused with a grin. He slipped his arm through the barrier, finding no resistance. "We shall soon see." His robes blended ephemerously into the wall, only to reappear on the other side. Golden hair sparkling in the afternoon sun, Jareth turned his head to the left and right. He was rewarded with the view of yet another unending corridor. Across from him was yet another shiny wall, which undoubtedly led to another hallway. A metal plate hung next to this invisible door, reading, "Build a house of cube-shaped blocks, better than building a house out of rocks... The smaller the house, the smaller the brick, the way the job goes from slow to quick!"  
  
"Cubes..." he mused. "A good thing Master Jeremiah taught me my numbers so well. Perhaps the only thing I did right..." He looked at his surroundings as if looking for cues. Some hanging moss gazed back at him, chittering away. "Well, I suppose I should figure these riddles out before I go on. The other eludes me... But this one I am sure has to do with numbers. A small brick...a small cube perhaps? Maybe a cubed number? What is the smallest number that can be cubed? Eight." He stared absentmindedly at the inscription. "Eight. I know the answer. That leaves me nowhere." He shrugged his shoulders. "Then there is only to go forward..." Once again, he passed through the new opening. Greeted once again by endless corridor on either side, and yet another inscription.  
  
"Keep track of the rings on your fingers, for without them the memory lingers."  
  
"More riddles. And to think that I was once so fond of them." He looked down at his hands, noting without surprise that he wore no rings. But, if he had rings, how would he keep track of them? "Reminding... some people tie strings around their fingers to remind themselves to do certain things... Rings as a reminder? And it does not say to keep track of one ring, but of multiple rings. Perhaps it means to count the rings, or even the fingers? Ah, to count... Eight fingers. So when am I to begin?" As if in response to his question, the inscription morphed into something new: "The end is the beginning, the beginning the end, which brings you right where you stand."  
  
He grinned and shook his head. "Dear Sarah, you are an interesting girl." He pulled his forefinger close to his palm. "This makes one."  
  
Each time he passed through the invisible doorway, he was face to face with a new doorway and a new corridor. He counted each passing off on his fingers, but was beginning to become uncertain as to whether it was wise for him to continue on this particular path, for the inscriptions had ceased to show. Finally he reached his eighth passing, and found another corridor and another door. He stopped to backtrack. "Perhaps I should have made a different move at the last inscription... Or my solution to the riddle was incorrect?" He put his finger to his chin in thought. "I still have not solved the first riddle. Perhaps it is the key to my path?" Jareth gazed thoughtfully into the infinitesimal depths of the corridor. A shifting in the air caught his eye. He let his hand hang at his side as he glided forward. The shifting discontinued as he walked. Perhaps it was just his imagination? He stopped his movement. Barely discernible, the shifting began again, almost like a heat wave on a hot black stone. Yet, as he inched forward, it ceased in its movement. "I doubt it is anything worth noting. I am apparently not on the correct path." As he turned, the shifting became more apparent, but only in his peripheral vision. The first riddle taunted him, as he repeated it quietly to himself: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble." He shook his head in confusion. "Out, but at the front of the door? I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble? Perhaps these are plays on words. Where does it mention a lack of trouble? Ah, a lack of worry, I see. So it rhymes with that which came after 'worry'. It rhymes with 'about'. It is out, but at the front of the door. What is at the front of the door?" He smiled in self- satisfaction. "The letter "D", of course. And if one listens to it, one could be misguided. The word is "doubt". So, if I listen to my doubts, I shall be steered wrong." He smirked. "Challenging, but not daunting. A few hundred years has given me some wisdom. Then I go forward, as my instincts tell me. I am on the eighth corridor, and, if I do not heed my doubts, I shall be led straight to the castle." He chuckled, a sarcastic grin playing on his lips. "Right." He went forward with determination, passing quickly through a shimmering atmosphere, to be transported to an area of the labyrinth that possessed defined twists and turns. "Ah, here we are. That's more like it."  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah looked on approvingly as her minions continued the celebration with hearty ale and joyful music. She was just getting ready to rise from her throne in order to mingle when Sage approached her hurriedly from the left. His smile stretched somewhat nervously across his face, though his step was calm. "Dear Sarah," he said upon his arrival, "may I please have a word with you in more private chambers?"  
  
Sarah tried to read his gaze, but was certain about the cause of his need for private speech. She acquiesced with a nod of her head and followed him into the castle.  
  
He led her through the hallways of the stone structure and did not stop until he reached the royal advisory chambers. Once she had stepped inside, he closed the door quietly behind himself and slowly turned around. Crossing his arms he asked, "And what was your reason for that scene out there, I should like to know?"  
  
"Of what do you speak?" Sarah asked, shifting her gaze nervously as she turned around to leaf through some insignificant paperwork.  
  
Sage put his hand firmly atop Sarah's as she went to reach for the distraction and adjusted his stance so that he was gazing her in the eye. "Do not play coy with me. Dear Sarah, do you know what you may have just done?"  
  
"By accepting a visitor into our kingdom? I have brought us a new ally!" she declared, thrusting her hands upward. Her mouth was turned down at the side, and it was apparent that she did not believe her own words.  
  
"Perhaps. But it was a very unwise decision, uncharacteristic of you. We have no previous knowledge of this supposed kingdom's existence, and you have accepted him, and, may I add, his entire city, past the city gates, at a time when our army is immobilized due to the celebration and our people are far from prepared for a war! All he has to do is to snap his fingers, and we are forced to cower before him! Though I do not wish to cause needless alarm, I believe this instance is far from needless. I have a suspicion about this man... as though I have met him before... and I do not trust him within ten inches of me. Let alone with his entire city at his side, within our walls, at a time when we are most vulnerable." Sage discontinued his tirade as Sarah plopped listlessly into a nearby chair, a profound sigh escaping her lips. The elf cocked his head to the side and let his arms fall to his waist. "I am sorry for losing my composure so, but this is dire. I really do not understand your decision."  
  
"Neither do I..." She gazed absently at a far wall, saying, "Only that I was completely entranced and enamored with him, and could not resist his presence. My decision confuses even me, for I would not normally allow such a circumstance hinder me from making the proper choice."  
  
It was Sage's turn to sigh. "Well then, what is done is done. We have only to see the results. Meanwhile, I will dispatch a few servants to research this new king, and also tell the army to be on its guard. I doubt that we have anything to worry about," he said with a tone that implied no certainty, "but it does not hurt to be prepared."  
  
"Yes, I believe you are correct. I hope my foolish behavior doesn't blow up in our face."  
  
* * *  
  
Isabelle and Vindar had danced for some time. He was swift and agile, incessantly asking questions as they flew across the cobblestone streets. Never before had she felt so comfortable amongst male company, despite her increased shyness. Sarah's teasing remarks left her uneasy; she could feel the eyes on her and her dancing companion. They all smiled in approval, as if in expectation of some future event; Isabelle was not mentally prepared to concede to the future event their gazes suggested. However, she enjoyed herself immensely, and tried hard not to let her worries get the best of her.  
  
"Isabelle, would you agree to walk awhile with me in the Arbor?" Vindar smiled down at her sweetly, and she felt a chill run down her spine.  
  
"What would people think?" she declared with widening eyes.  
  
"We know what they will think... They shall think what they already think." He led her out of the crowd. "But what does it matter what they think? I was never raised to give precendence to other people's preconceived notions."  
  
"Very well then, if you think there is no harm..." She twirled her black hair between her fingers nervously.  
  
Gently he placed his long hand above her own fidgeting one and coaxed, "Leave your fidgeting, lovely one. Never let your perceived opinions of others hinder your own dreams and wishes. It is the worst injury you could commit upon yourself."  
  
She chuckled warmly, but with agitation. "Already you are fathering me, just as Sage."  
  
"Nay, I do not father you. I advise you as any good friend might. It just happens that my advice is of higher quality than most." He cocked his head to the side and softly led her forth. "Now come, the cool shade beckons."  
  
They strolled past the crowds of people, walking through the square, past the gardens, and into the shady glen that fell just behind some village homes. They were quiet some moments as they delved deeper and deeper into the Arbor, finally coming upon some sitting stones next to a babbling brook. "Ah, here we are," Vindar exclaimed. "Let us have a seat and enjoy the peaceful scenery."  
  
Isabelle sat, crossing her hands in her lap stiffly and gazing into the depths of the forest absently. Soon she began tapping her foot, just enough to notice, never once laying eyes directly upon the handsome Vindar. "So, Isabelle," Vindar said, "how does it feel to know Jareth is alive?"  
  
"I am very happy. I have missed him." She looked away as she spoke. Vindar chuckled warmly. She turned to face him suddenly. "Why are you laughing?"  
  
"Oh, lovely one," he said, only dissipating his mirth slightly. "You are a humorous one. You will not look at me as you speak, almost as if I was your captor. There is no need to be so uncomfortable around me."  
  
"Please, you make me more uncomfortable with your joking," she replied curtly.  
  
"Very well, then." He sobered up and paused a moment before continuing. "So how did you end up with Jareth as your orphan father?"  
  
"Well, it is a long story."  
  
"I do so enjoy stories."  
  
"Very well then, I shall tell it to you." Isabelle smoothed her dress and turned around to face Vindar. "Before I was born, my parents were forced to leave the city, sometime before it became the Goblin City. I do believe that they, too, were only children at the time. They grew up in the same village, and were soon wed. I believe it was a marriage of means, for both families were properous, one thanks to being the leader of a guild, the other due to his crops. Only a year after they were wed, I was born. I remember my mother telling me of her fears of father, for he became very power hungry, and was prone to drinking. The village was falling apart, due to the fact that Jareth continually brought nuisances upon the people, such as burning crops, terrible weather, and other events that, for some reason, he seemed to enjoy immensely. I did not find the truth of the situation until recently. But I shall get to that.  
  
"Well, as it turned out, the constant turmoil from without led to deeper turmoil from within the village. Fights broke out constantly, over property, livestock, anything. It became necessary for the village to split into three parts and go its separate ways. My father, Berkely, was the leader of one of the rebelling groups. Many of those who followed him were of the avaricious sort, their hungers never to be appeased. He was of the same lot as they, but very cunning. They followed him into the valleys of the Shadow Mountains, and there they built a village that had prosperous beginnings. But, their prosperity was not to last. Jareth seemed to lose his interest in the other two villages, and sadly, they came to their deaths due to their own aimless wanderings, for many had never been outside of the city until the migration had come about. However, Jareth did increase his mental torture of the village that I lived in. He was more vicious than he had ever been. His outbursts were sporadic, but, once he did make an appearance, chaos dwelled within our village. During all of these happenings, my father began to lose his power over the villagers. His drinking increased, and he was soon taken over by the man who came to lead our village. A home was built for this man, more splendid than the others... He was trying to recreate a piece of our lost city. But it didn't quite work, for the people had become squandering and dirty. People lost respect for their own humanity. Even as a child I could see it, though I did not understand it. Soon my father gave up fighting against the man, and drowned himself further in liquor to ignore his defeat. He began to beat my mother profusely and called me ugly names, always pulling my hair or chasing me with his belt.  
  
"One day I was outside playing when Jareth appeared to me. I was scared at first and tried to run, but he trapped me. He handed me a beautiful rosebud and begged me not to cry. Once I had calmed, he touched a bruise on my arm and asked if my father had hurt me. I replied that he had, and Jareth asked me if I wanted to go away with him. I conceded apprehensively, and soon became his minion. Within a days time I had transformed into a goblin. I was very frightened, but he lavished many gifts upon me and helped me to lose my fear. Though he was cruel from time to time, it was never toward me. He was nicer to me than even my own mother had been, and I became the most grateful of servants... of daughters.  
  
"However, I never aged... he took me away when I was merely ten, and forever ten I stayed. I remember that time very well... He was very sad, and I soon learned that he had retrieved me only a fortnight after Sarah had made her first journey into the Labyrinth and refused his gift of dreams. I knew that he was terribly in love with her. As you can see, I look very much like her. I believe that he took me in to forget his pain over losing her. His kindness was his own way of distracting himself, of making up for the pain he placed upon her. He told me that he had been watching me for several years and could bear no longer to see me treated as such. I don't believe it was a lie, but had proven to be very true when I compare it to other stories I have heard.  
  
"When Sarah returned and freed us all from the spell that held us captive as goblins, Jareth disappeared. I no longer had him as a father, but placed the utmost trust in Sarah, and soon she helped me to move on with my life and let my pain over the loss of my father fall into the depths of the past. At least, as much as anyone could. I still loved him deeply and longed for his return, as she did. We had discovered my mother soon after her commencement, and it was only a year before my mother died. She was in such physical pain due the abuse she had received from my father. But she was finally able to see me again, and I believe it brought her much peace before her death. Jareth continued to remain in hiding, and his absence caused me to wish to seek out more knowledge of him. I was an avid reader of the histories, and soon discovered that Jareth had inflicted so much pain upon the village that I lived within, partially due to their lowliness. Even he had not seen such a degraded state of humanity, the histories said. However, these feelings seemed only to come in bursts, at certain times that the histories describe as the king's days of brooding. It seems that Jareth only did such things within my village to punish the people for their cruelty. I do believe that initially the disturbances were only meant as entertainment, as a cat will toy with a mouse that has a broken foot."  
  
Isabelle took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "And here we are. Jareth has returned, and all seems to be well. I hope Sarah shall accept him warmly."  
  
Vindar looked at her somberly. "You have had much sadness in your life, sweet one. I am happy for you that you are surrounded with nothing but good things. You must be very happy as well."  
  
"Now that my father is back, I feel very relieved, like all the puzzle pieces are in place."  
  
There was a sound in the shrubbery, and Vindar turned his head suddenly to find the source. "What?" Isabelle questioned. "Shh," the elf replied as he snuck toward the bushes.  
  
A twittering came from the bushes as they rustled once again. They both listened closely, and two voices became apparent. "Dang you, they were getting close to smoochin'," one exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. Vindar's brow scrunched up in irritation as he reached into the bushes. Two little figures hopped out, saw their pursuer, then ran up a tree, Vindar scurrying behind them. Once they reached the top, one of the little creatures mooned the couple, while the other stuck out his tongue and gave them a raspberry. "You little imps," Vindar exclaimed. "How dare you say such a thing...and look at your manners. Absolutely horrid. Being so rude in front of a lady."  
  
"He's right," the one who had been giving them a raspberry exclaimed as he slapped his pantless cohort on the head. "Put your pants on, Fred. We can make fun of them without resorting to such unnecessary rudeness."  
  
"What are they?" Isabelle asked, looking utterly amazed.  
  
"Gnomes, I believe. And apparently of the nastiest sort." Vindar glared at them after his final statement. He was rewarded with an acorn in between the eyes. "Ooh, just wait until I get my hands on you."  
  
"Now, Vindar, don't resort to being as low as they," Isabelle declared quietly. "They really are rather fascinating fellows." She too was then rewarded with an acorn between the eyes, thanks to Fred. "Okay, that's it my fine fellows," she declared as she hiked up her dress. "I am coming after you for that little prank."  
  
"Now Fred," the other gnome exclaimed, "you really be needin' to learn to control those urges of yers. When will I ever see you sober m'friend?" With that said, he threw an acorn at Vindar, with less precise aim, chuckling all the way. He stopped laughing when Vindar began to climb the tree. "Uh oh. This one's a sprite little elf."  
  
"I am neither a sprite, nor little, you tiny man. And yes, I can climb a tree better than any of your little squirrel friends, so you had better watch out!" Vindar's demeanor had suddenly become playful in nature as he pursued the small men.  
  
"He means business!" Fred slurred. "Let's be gone!"  
  
"Aye, good friend. Gone we are!"  
  
With that, they disappeared in an explosion of light. Vindar squinted past the glow, then, upon seeing that they had disappeared, he came down from the tree, shaking his head and smirking. "Well, that nuisance is gone, for now." He could not contain his laughter. "What fine fellows, indeed. I am certain we shall see them again. Gnomes are known for their selective pranks."  
  
"They were interesting, to say the least," Isabelle commented as she let go of her dress.  
  
"Well then, pretty one, shall we return to the festivities? Let us see where Jareth is in his travels through the Labyrinth."  
  
"Is he competing?" Isabelle said excitedly. "Oh, that is marvelous! He will surely win!"  
  
"Aye, he is. And it is a secret, so keep your lovely lips sealed. We do not wish for word to get out to Sarah." He looped his arm around Isabelle's and led her out of the Arbor. "What an interesting two weeks this is going to prove to be!" 


	12. Chapter 11: Obstacles

CHAPTER XI: Obstacles  
  
"Now I won't hear a word of it!"  
  
Contrary to Hoggle's original belief, the alcohol only made his father more obstinate. Mr. Hiddlebury's son had traveled to the apothecary and returned with an ointment for the old dwarf's aching joints, only to find the codger prepared to fight the admission of elderly defeat, passion in his eyes and ale on his hot breath. Mrs. Hiddlebury tried to soothe him with soft words, but he bit back with new fury. The little outburst caused quite a stink, and ruined the mood for quite a few onlookers. Hoggle dragged his fighting father into the castle and shoved him into a seat in the empty throne room to give him a good talking to. Sarah and Mrs. Hiddlebury were in the rear, concern written on their downcast faces. Hoggle gave them an irritated frown and snapped, "Dontcha be worryin' about the old goat. I got my stubborness from 'im, and I know how to deal with it."  
  
"I don't know, Hoggle," Sarah pressed. "I think this may be more serious than you think."  
  
"Now dontcha let him think so! You'll really give'im the idea that he has a right to stink about nothin'!"  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury placed her hand onto Sarah's arm, looked up at the girl then to her son. "We'll let you handle it, son. Just you be careful. He's very hot tempered when'e gets to drinkin'."  
  
"Thanks so much for warning be beforehand, Ma." Hoggle gave his mother and uncompromising glare.  
  
"Now, dontcha give me that look, Hoggle Jr. Your father ain't nothin' when it comes to my temper."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Don't let me get started on a woman's temper..." Hoggle turned to care for his father while his mother crossed her arms and gave him a disdainful look.  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury looked up at Sarah and said, "'T'will be fine, Your Majesty. It's just a little mood he gets into once-in-awhile. It will pass."  
  
"Who do ya think you're dealin' with, boy?" Mr. Hiddlebury declared with venom. "I'm your father, not some lad who done gotten into the larder without permission. I should give you a whippin' for your insolence!"  
  
"Ain't no one gettin' a whipping!" Hoggle yelled back. "Look, you're gonna listen to me for once! I actually know more'n you in this case! I've been studyin' on agin', and -"  
  
"So, you've been waitin' for yer dad to die, eh?! Well, I'm sorry I can't oblige you any faster -" Just as he was preparing to get up, Hoggle shoved him back into his seat, pulling his own face inches from his father's.  
  
"Now, look, you listen here -"  
  
"Get out of my face -"  
  
"Listen!" Hoggle's eyes burned brightly and the force in his tone caught his father's attention. "I'm not waiting for you to die. But you are damned well close, and you ain't helpin' nothin' by all this screamin' and hollerin'. I'm tryin' to help you. That's all I've been tryin' for all along."  
  
"You weren't there when I needed you!" Mr. Hiddlebury declared, bending forward to emphasize his statement, his hot breath choking Hoggle with the smell of liquor.  
  
"You're right, but I'm here now. I know I wadn't there for you all the time I was slavin' my life away for Jareth. I know that you didn't have a son, and that, even now, I'm not followin' in your footsteps as directly as you'd like. That's too bad, Pa. If I learned anything from the colossal mistake I done made with Jareth, it's that I gotta choose my path, and not slave for no one, not even my own father. I made a big mistake, granted, but I'm here now, and you don't wanna accept me. Well, there ain't no time to wait, Pa. 'Cause you'll be gone before you know it, and I'll be left with the miserable thought that you and me never patched things up. No matter how much you don't like it, you're dyin', Pa. I wanna make it as painless as possible, and I wanna try to get a few more years with you if I can help it. That's why I been studyin' up on aging. That's why I brought you this ointment. I want your last years to be your best. I wanna be the son that you never had."  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury made no response, only to glower pitifully.  
  
Hoggle softened his gaze, wrinkling a brow in contemplation. "Okay, now give me your arm." Mr. Hiddlebury complied instantly, only indicating hurt pride through the redirection of his gaze. Hoggle looked surprised, and turned to see shocked looks on Sarah and Mrs. Hiddlebury's faces. He opened the jar of ointment, then rubbed a large amount onto his stubby fingers. "This'll sting a bit, but it will feel better in just a second." When his father didn't respond, Hoggle proceeded to rub the ointment on the old dwarf's elbow, then moved to the other. Mr. Hiddlebury didn't even flinch. "There! Now to your knees. I'm gonna pull the legs of yer breeches up a bit." Mr. Hiddlebury moved one leg forward, never looking at Hoggle as he did so. One knee and then the next, Hoggle applied the remainder of the ointment. The dwarf stood up and faced his father. "Now, that wadn't so bad, was it?"  
  
"I ain't sayin' nothin'," Mr. Hiddlebury replied in a low tone.  
  
"Then, will you come back with us and have some fun?" Hoggle prodded.  
  
"I ain't goin' nowhere."  
  
"Well, fine then. I will just take the lasses away and we will have a good time without you." With that, Hoggle herded the women toward the door. Just as the women had left, Mr. Hiddlebury exclaimed, "Wait! Come'ere. Hoggle Jr. I wanna have a word with ya." Hoggle turned his head, cocked his bushy eyebrow, then hobbled over to his father. "Yes?"  
  
"I just wanna say...." Mr. Hiddlebury looked up, puckered his lip as if avoiding a sour flavor, then continued, "I wanna tell you, 'Thank you, son.'" He pulled the legs of his breeches down and sighed. "I've been troublesome, 'cause I've still been angered. But you've been a better son than any father could wish for. I forgive you fer runnin' to the Goblin King... I guess I can't blame ya... I was a harsh father, always wantin' you to follow my dreams instead'a yer own. I know that's why you ran away. I wantcha to do what makes ya happy. And I appreciate yer help with my achin' joints. I'll try to be more agreeable. I know my time's comin', though I find it hard to admit sometimes. Guess I just don't wanna die." He grunted. "But, who wants to die? It happens anyway. So, might as well enjoy what time I got left... And enjoy the remaining precious moments I have with my son. Come'ere boy."  
  
Hoggle smiled warmly, tears trickling down his cheek. His father rose and they embraced for some moments before Mr. Hiddlebury finally stood back, holding his son's shoulders in his hands. "You make me very proud, Hoggle Jr. You will be a fine bookman."  
  
"Thank you, Pa. I love ya, too."  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury smirked. "Ah, my son knows me too well. Guess we're of the same sort."  
  
"We most definitely are."  
  
"Well, shall we return to the festivities and join in a drink, lad?"  
  
"That we shall, Pa. I've been waitin' all day."  
  
* * *  
  
As Jareth traversed the labyrinth, he discovered that, unlike the labyrinth he had created, the maze was more of a test of skill than a display of chance. Nonetheless, his skill far exceeded that which his current obstacle course required, and he had no doubts about his future success. He found himself facing a dead end, and he was most certain that he was going the right way. The wall was jagged, full of holes and littered with branches that protruded from the wall. A little bug that was making its rest on one of the branches turned about to face Jareth and cried, "Hahaha! It's a dead end! And you can't make your way through, you big bully human!"  
  
Jareth cocked his eyebrow and looked down on the creature. "Quite a disdainful little chap, aren't you? If I were inclined to think so, I might presume you were picking a fight with me... Perhaps you have not considered the odds of your survival in such a battle? I won't even worry you with the ratio of my size to yours... Let's just say that you would end up less appealing to look at than you already are."  
  
"Heh, I can outfly you any day! Just try me, you big oaf!" The bug twitched his behind to and fro, flittering his wings and buzzing in mockery.  
  
"Can you, now?" Jareth smirked at him, and, just as the bug began to bug off, he darted out his hand, catching the bug by the foot. "Not so fast."  
  
"Oww....! Goshdarnit, you're hurting my foot!" The creature pivoted about his ensnared foot agitatedly and declared, "Alright already! You got me, you got me!"  
  
"Your tongue has softened... Perhaps you'll think twice before you take another oafish human for granted, hmm?" Jareth brought the bug to eye level before letting it go. "I could have squashed you, you know."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you're the man..." The bug perched on his branch again. "But can you get past this wall?"  
  
"Don't tempt me to take you hostage again..." Jareth began to move his hand toward the bug in a threatening manner when he suddenly came upon an idea. "No, I'll let you be, I think. You have given me an idea."  
  
"So you think you know the way past?" the bug asked, landing on Jareth's shoulder.  
  
"My dear insect, I do know the way past. But first I think I shall cash in one of my hints."  
  
"Why do you need a hint if you know the way? I don't believe you. You're just talking big."  
  
"Naturally this wall is meant to be climbed over. I am supposed to think it's a dead end, but it is not. Am I correct?"  
  
The bug crossed his first two legs and looked away. "I'm not saying you are, I'm not saying you're not."  
  
"I thought so. Now please be off, I have matters to attend to."  
  
"You ain't got much time, if you're in that race. You've only got nine hours left. How come you're going to waste your time asking for a hint you don't need? You act like you think you're gonna win."  
  
"That is because I am, dear chap. You may accompany me if you don't believe me. And just to prove to you that I know that I am correct about this wall, I shall climb it before I call the queen."  
  
"Sure. We'll see about this. Ain't many people to solve the labyrinth in nine days let alone nine hours. This'll be a hoot. And me to jeer - I mean cheer - you on."  
  
"Very well, then. It's settled. Now, I have things to do, so please keep quiet." Jareth climbed to the top of the wall with little trouble and gazed out on the labyrinth. He could see most of the labyrinth from his position, and, though most of the puzzles had nothing to do with the orientation of the labyrinth walls, he could still make a mental picture of the path that lay ahead. He pulled out a pencil and paper and sketched out the shape of the walls. Then he drew a line from beginning to end. "Just like a maze. Too simple. At least, so it seems. I'm sure that I shall find some more surprises on my path."  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah, Sage, and a large audience watched the large scrying crystal in amazement. Oohs and aahs came from the crowd. Sarah turned to Sage and exclaimed, "I can't believe he did that! Isn't that cheating?"  
  
"Not really, Sarah. We did put that particular puzzle there. But you need not fear. He will still have to solve many puzzles in order to go that route. Now he knows the shortest route, that it all he has gained."  
  
Sarah's jaw stood agape. "I can't believe he had a pencil and paper with him. How many people carry - " She caught herself then continued, "Uh, yes, I am sure that he will still have some difficulties to overcome yet."  
  
They all watched as the contestant jumped down from the wall and landed amidst a new path. He then pulled out his amulet and invoked it. The scrying crystal pulsed with light and all images were replaced with that of the hooded man. "I am in need of your assistance, my queen," he said.  
  
"Very well, then," Sarah responded with a confused look on her face. "I shall be there shortly." He bowed his head and his image dissipated. Sarah then looked to her advisor. "What on earth could he need help for? He hasn't yet approached another puzzle."  
  
"I am also perplexed. Maybe something is wrong."  
  
"Perhaps. I shall return shortly." Sarah pulled out a crystal, invoked its magic, and disappeared. When she rematerialized she was standing before the hooded man.  
  
"You are very handy with that magic crystal," the man declared. He was leaning against the wall in a contra posto stance, his arms crossed and his hood hanging over his eyes.  
  
"Thank you. I am fairly proud of my acquired skill. How can I be of assistance to you?" Sarah looked at him, perplexed, when he did not move. She was certain he was staring at her. Her curled hair was teased by the breeze, tangling in the flowers in her hair. Her orange gown glowed in the bright midday sunshine. "You did need my help, did you not?" she questioned again.  
  
"Yes." The man merely uncrossed his arms to pull his gloves tighter on his hands. "Now that I know I am going to have several spare hours ahead of myself, I decided that I could allow myself to have a little break. I was hoping that you might be able to conjure up some water and keep me company for this small time."  
  
"Well, certainly I can bring you some drink, but, if you are so certain about the speed of your journey, it would seem logical that you would wait until the end to find company of a more lasting nature." Sarah spun her hand about and a goblet appeared between her fingers. "Would you prefer wine?"  
  
"No, water will be fine. I am drunken well enough by your beauty."  
  
Sarah blushed visibly as she handed the goblet to the man. "If you think flattery will give you more of an advantage, you are sorely mistaken," Sarah joked.  
  
"No flattery intended. I do believe I am already at an advantage and do not need any help. And as to your reasonable advice about my need for company... I just couldn't wait for your company. I still have at least five hours to go, and that seemed too far off. I hope you do not think me foolish."  
  
"Not at all, Pandor."  
  
"Ah, you know who I am, then?"  
  
"No, you are hearing things. It would be at the disadvantage of the other competitors for me to know your identity."  
  
"Clever woman. Well then, since you do not know who I am, then you must not have met my traveling companion, Granen."  
  
"No, I did not."  
  
"Then you must not have seen the painting my friend was to give to you... It is no matter, I am sure you would have hated it."  
  
"Oh, indeed, I think I would have despised it so that I would have no words to describe my hatred. No, I did not see this painting, nor did I invite you to become my court painter."  
  
"That is a good thing, for, if you had, I surely would have refused."  
  
Sarah had been keeping a straight face all throughout the paradoxical conversation, and she suddenly burst out into laughter. "Good heavens, what are we talking about?!"  
  
Pandor's mouth twitched beneath his hood, and soon his was laughing ,as well. "I do not know, my queen. Be assured, though, that everything I have said was in purposefully contrary jest. I am quite honored to be your court painter. I just must know one thing..."  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"Where will you be hanging your new painting?"  
  
Sarah cocked her eyebrow in thought. "I do not know, I haven't really given it much consideration."  
  
"Then I have one request of you."  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"Put it in your bedroom."  
  
Sarah seemed taken aback. "Quite a blunt request. Can I ask why?"  
  
"Just because you are curious I will tell you, 'No.' I shall let you draw your own conclusions and I will not tell you whether or not you are right until I am ready."  
  
"Playing mind games, I see." The queen gave him a sideways grin.  
  
"I assure you - nay, I warn you, I am very good at them."  
  
"You may think that your intentional ambiguousness is going to torture me, but it is not."  
  
"We shall see about that."  
  
Sarah turned around, skirt twirling about her legs. She answered him as she walked away, "Very well then. Enjoy your drink, Pandor. I am willing to bet you will feel very worked by the time you are done with your journey. We shall see each other at the center of the labyrinth." Without any other words, she twirled the crystal about between her fingers and disappeared.  
  
The man crossed his arms again and gazed in the space she had once occupied. "That we shall. Dear Sarah, you are one very intriguing woman."  
  
* * *  
  
Sage was waiting with a grin when Sarah returned. "So, what did he want? I was watching you in the crystal... You seemed rather amused."  
  
She bent over to whisper in his ear. "Don't let it slip that I know, but I do believe it is our good friend, Pandor. The sneaky one just wanted to brag... He thinks he is going to win."  
  
"Well, based upon his performance heretofore, I do not see why he wouldn't." Sage saw Sarah's mischievous grin and further replied, "Why, what ever are you thinking, Sarah?"  
  
"Let's just say that I plan to cut him down a notch or two. Don't worry, he'll probably still win, but I don't see why he should have it so easy. I'll just even the playing field."  
  
"You know, the reason we agreed to disguise the contestants was to keep you from both giving the players and advantage and taking away their advantage."  
  
Sarah smiled at him knowingly. "Yes, that is true. And he forfeited that advantage by giving himself away. Like I said, it is no matter. If he is meant to win, he shall. He practically challenged me to a duel of wits. Well, I don't think he took me seriously... And now I shall have a little fun with him."  
  
Sage shook his head and grinned. "Very well. You are a funny one. You will hate me for saying it, but this is behavior typical of Jareth. Didn't he do the same thing to you when you went through the labyrinth nine years ago?"  
  
"Yes. It is an ironic world, now, isn't it?"  
  
"You just don't know how ironic, my dear girl. You will laugh when you find out."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sarah narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Ignore me. I am full of silly comments today." Sage was now the one to smile mischievously; he turned his back and walked away, leaving a perplexed Sarah. He went to Isabelle's side, exchanged a few words and a few chuckles, then went into the castle.  
  
She began to follow him, but seemed to think better of it, pulling out a crystal instead. Just as she began to scrunch her brow in thought, Isabelle approached from the left. "What are you doing, Sarah?'  
  
Sarah smiled. "Just giving a smart-aleck contestant a bit of heartache."  
  
"Who is that?"  
  
"Shhh... Don't tell anyone. It's Pandor. He just asked for a hint in order to brag to me about his excellence... I thought he deserved a little trouble. Don't worry, I'm just doing so for fun."  
  
Isabelle nodded her head and smiled. "I see. You are having trouble coming up with something?"  
  
"Yes, I am, as a matter of fact. Got any ideas?"  
  
"Actually, I do. If anything would distract him, it would be a trip into one of the crystals... Maybe give him some enchanted food, or something." She paused to consider. "I know! I've got a great idea!"  
  
Sarah bent over for Isabelle to whisper her plan. She pulled back, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
* * *  
  
Toby stepped off the school bus, his hair glistening in the afternoon sun. He stood still and watched it drive away, past his carport and down the street. He made no effort to move, other than to turn his head to face his house. Groaning, he flung his back pack onto his shoulder, straightened his back, and began the journey up the walkway. "Here goes," he mumbled as he eased the front door open with all of the care he could muster. The door closed quietly behind him; he tiptoed his way to the staircase. Just as he had mounted the last of the steps, he heard his mother cry from the kitchen.  
  
"Toby Harry Jacobs! Get over here right this instant!"  
  
The boy's shoulders slouched when he heard the demand. Stopping in his tracks, he seemed to consider it before finally turning around and walking back down the stairs.  
  
"Spit-spot young man!"  
  
He hurried his pace only fractionally. Upon reaching the kitchen door, he sauntered in, dragging his feet behind him. His head hung low and he did not face his mother, who was standing by the kitchen counter, staring angrily down at him.  
  
"Son, why do you do these things? The teacher called me and told me that you poured blue paint all over one of your classmates' hair. How could you do such a thing? It's going to take months for the dye to come completely out!"  
  
"But, Mom, I didn't do it! The gnomes did it!"  
  
His mother sighed heavily, sinking into the nearest chair and covering her face with her hands. She finally looked up at the boy and said, "Son, where do you come up with all of these things? You can't keep blaming your actions on your imaginary friends!"  
  
"But, Mom, they're not imaginary! They were real! I was bored, and I wished that I could see gnomes... And they came! They went to recess with me, and Susie was being mean to me, so they turned her hair blue! And when they did, I -"  
  
"You wished them away, like the other time when the fairies came that started biting people, right?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
Miss Jacobs sighed with the utmost lamentation in her tone. "Oh, Toby. Just go to your room. We'll talk some more when your father gets home."  
  
"But don't you believe me, Mom?" Toby looked at her with wide blue eyes.  
  
"Toby, I don't know what to think." She was interrupted by the shutting of the front door. "There's your father now. Go to your room. We'll be up there in a minute."  
  
Toby stood still for a moment, gazing at his mother with pleading eyes. His father stepped into the kitchen, summed up each of them then asked, "What's wrong?" The boy looked to his unresponsive mother, glanced up at his father, then turned around and exited the kitchen. "What's up with him?" Toby heard his father say once he had begun to climb the stairs. Instead of going to his room as asked, Toby merely sat at the top of the staircase in order to hear his parents' conversation.  
  
"Oh, Robert, what are we going to do with him?"  
  
"He did something at school again?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
After a brief silence, Robert asked, "What did he do this time?"  
  
"Poured blue paint all over some little girl's hair."  
  
"You're kidding me!" his father cried incredulously.  
  
"No. What's worse, he's blaming it on his imaginary creatures again." His mother lowered her voice. "Robert, I really think we should take him to a therapist, like we talked about earlier."  
  
"You may be right. Tomorrow I'll make the call. I talked to Dr. Richardson yesterday; he said he'd be glad to treat him."  
  
"You know what scares me most, Robert? I really think he believes these creatures are doing these things... And when he said he didn't throw the eraser at his teacher, but that it just flew at her as soon as he became angry... He really seemed to think that he had magical powers! Sarah had the same imagination as a child, but she never went this far! Otherwise I would say that he got it from her!"  
  
"You know, he didn't start doing these things until she moved to New York. Maybe he's just reacting to her absence."  
  
"But she doesn't live in New York anymore, Robert. You'd think he would have gotten better once she moved back to Virginia, if that were the case."  
  
Robert scratched his head thoughtfully. "I don't know. She's still going back and forth to NewYork on business and she's still been pretty busy. I mean, he does so much better when she's here. I think her presence has a lot to do with it. He really looks up to her. I think she's one of the few people he thinks understands him."  
  
His wife shook her head. "You know, it's really something the way those two have grown together. It seems like Sarah's attitude towards her brother changed almost overnight. One day she despised him, the next she couldn't spend enough time with him."  
  
"Well, Nancy, she did pay him even more attention than we did, at least, once she did decide she liked him. I didn't realize all the attention she paid him would make him feel so dependent on her. It's as if he can't survive without her presence, now. I guess we didn't notice it so much until he started school..."  
  
"And then he had a hard time getting along with all of the other kids. Sometimes he acts so grown up, Robert. I don't understand why he does these things. He has so much of his sister in him... You'd think he would pick up on the responsibility that she has been displaying these past couple of years."  
  
"I don't know. Maybe Dr. Richardson will have an answer. I'll go upstairs and speak to him in a minute. Let me get out of my work clothes, first."  
  
Nancy looked up at him and smiled wanly. "Okay."  
  
Toby hurried into his room, his head swimming. They thought he was crazy! He couldn't believe it. "Well, I'll show them!" he exclaimed. He rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a bit of rope, a picture of his sister, a little drawing pad, a pair of socks, some money, and a few pencils. He then dumped everything out of his bookbag in order to put the other items inside. Next he opened a little black jewelry box that sat on his dresser, pulling out a necklace his sister had given him for his sixth birthday. It was a necklace with a pendant of a hand holding a crystal ball. He put it around his neck, grabbed his bookbag, and went to open the window. It took him little effort to climb out and onto the branch of the nearby maple tree. With great ease he climbed down the trunk and landed on the grass.  
  
He looked up at his bedroom window with a furrowed brow. "I'm not crazy! I'll go find Sarah, and she'll tell them!" With that, he ran around the building and down the street. 


	13. Chapter 12: Dizzy Daydreams

CHAPTER XII: Dizzy Daydreams  
  
Sarah stepped down from the platform to mingle with her minions. Just as she was beginning to approach the booths, she was stopped by someone touching her arm. She turned around to be face to face with the mysterious King Kaleb of the Summit. "Can I help you?" she asked, disguising the excitement she felt from the tingling sensation that went through her arm as a response to his touch.  
  
He smiled slightly, but not without warmth. Though it was a paradoxically chilling warmth his smile possessed. "Your Majesty, I was wondering if you would not mind dancing with me. I am without a companion, and it has been many ages since I had the opportunity to participate in social activity such as this. I would be honored if you would help me to put an end to my abstinence." He proffered his hand, closing in so that he was less than a foot away from her.  
  
She took his hand, remaining as stately as ever. "I would be honored."  
  
He led her across the dance floor, gracefully and silently. After many moments of dancing, Sarah said, "So, tell me about your kingdom."  
  
He put a finger to his lips then replaced the hand upon her waist. "This is not the time for serious discussions, Your Majesty. Even if we were discussing you, I would beg for your silence."  
  
"Even then? You are apparently not as curious of me as I am of you." She gave him a cockeyed grin.  
  
"I can deduce all that I need to know of you, Your Majesty. You are no puzzle to me." He saw her shock and smiled. "This appears to bother you."  
  
"Just a little forward, that is all."  
  
"You will learn to grow accustomed to my honesty. Though my comment was not meant as an insult. You are a complex woman. That I know. But I also know that you are a woman." He bent closer and rasped breathily into her ear. "And even a queen wishes to be treated as a woman. So stop being a queen for just a moment, and try just to be a woman." He pulled back, put his finger to his lips one last time, and once again put his hand upon her waist. Sarah was breathless. Kaleb found no resistance from the stunned queen. Nor did she protest when he closed the gap between their dancing bodies. For once, the questions in Sarah's brain became silent and were replaced by intense, fiery emotions. He gazed at her with piercing eyes, never taking his eyes away, never smiling. Nor did he kiss her, as she so desperately hoped he would. The dance seemed to last forever, but, once it ended, it had ended too soon for the spellbound queen. Kaleb kissed her hand and said, "Thank you kindly. If you will excuse me, now, Your Majesty, I have a few matters to attend to."  
  
As he pulled away slowly, Sarah found her tongue. "Uh, Your Majesty, my people and I would... be honored if you would remain in our city for the remainder of the festivities."  
  
"I would have it no other way, my lady," he replied, smiling, as he backed away, eventually turning around to complete his departure.  
  
Sarah inhaled deeply and licked her lips. She seemed to become suddenly aware of her surroundings, straightened her dress, and did her best to evade some of the humored grins that followed her as she made her way up the platform. Though she tried to ignore it, she was sure she heard someone comment, "I do declare, 'tis the queen's week for suitors. But I think she just found her winner."  
  
* * *  
  
Jareth was approaching the shrub part of the labyrinth when he heard voices in the distance. He stopped, as his bug companion became silent. "You hear something?" the bug asked.  
  
"Shh. Yes." The man paused a moment. "It sounds like two girls talking, I am not quite certain, though. I know it is an awful thing to ask, but would you please be so kind as to be a fly on the wall?"  
  
"Certainly. Anything to help." The small creature buzzed merrily away and disappeared behind the shrubbery. Once on the other side, he was greeted with the vision of a young woman talking to a fairy.  
  
The fairy was fairly large for fairy folk; she was at least one foot high. She saw the bug immediately and cried out in a joyful whisper, "Jiggy Juniper! I knew I recognized that buzz!" She flew over to him and rubbed her tiny fingers against his antenna. "I'm so glad to see you!" She turned to face the person with whom she was speaking. It was the beaming Isabelle. "Isabelle, this is -"  
  
"Shh! No time for chit-chat! He's here! And you know he'll hear!" The bug flew around in agitation.  
  
Isabelle straightened. "Okay, guess I better go. But you know what to do, Liona?"  
  
The fairy signaled an "OK" with her hand. "You better believe it!"  
  
"Alright! Good luck, then!"  
  
"Nothin' to it!" With that, Isabelle disappeared in a puff of magic. Liona looked to the fly. "Guess we'd better pretend we don't know each other, eh? Nothing better than causing mischief!"  
  
The bug buzzed his acknowledgment. He then flew out from behind the shrubbery, Liona in the rear. "Oh, you nasty little bug, I see you listening in on my conversation! You little nuisance, wait till I get my hands on you!"  
  
"Nah-nah-na-nah-nah!" The bug went through shrubs to evade her.  
  
The little fairy sighed with mock exasperation. She then went around the shrubs, seeming startled to see the waiting Jareth. "Oh!" She exclaimed, first looking shocked, then putting her hands on her hips in fake anger. "So you're the human who sent him to spy, aye? I was talking to a shy little elf girl, and now she has run off, thanks to you two!"  
  
The bug landed on Jareth's shoulder and stuck out his tongue at her then turned to Jareth. "She's right. Little girl ran away." He wiggled his tail at the fairy. "But I bet she ran away because she was scared of you, you sorry excuse for a fly!"  
  
"Hmph!" The fairy crossed her arms then flew before the entrance to the beginning of the maze of greenery. "It doesn't matter what you say; you won't be able to get past here, now that you've been so mean to me."  
  
"Now, now, dear little one, truly I meant no harm," Jareth said, smiling inwardly at the humorous scene. "You do not have to let my traveling companion through if you do not wish, but I have done nothing to you."  
  
The bug crossed his own arms and buzzed in irritation. "Well, some friend you are!" Jareth merely shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"It's all the same to me. Neither of you can get through."  
  
"Fairy, you know very well I could get through if I so chose."  
  
"You think so..." She flew back and forth in thought, and, once she seemed to have settle on something, she turned around to face him. "I will let you pass on one condition."  
  
"And what is that, lovely fairy?" Jareth smiled whimsically.  
  
"You must give me a kiss." She closed the statement with a decisive lifting of her chin and widening of her eyes.  
  
Jareth's smile widened, and he was soon crossing his arms, as well. "Fairies. Like most women, you are either about biting or about kissing. Now where is the happy median?"  
  
"Come on, mortal. I do not have all day. What will it be?"  
  
Jareth rubbed his chin. "So, what is it? My handsome looks? That must be it."  
  
"You draw whatever conclusion you wish."  
  
"Admit it."  
  
"Do you wish to pass, or not?"  
  
"Of course I do, lovely one." Jareth approached her. "I am just worried that you will not survive the incident with all of your wits intact."  
  
"Haha, funny man. Pucker up, handsome." The fairy bent forward, closing her eyes and pursing her lips.  
  
"Very well." Jareth leaned in, gently pressing his mouth against the tiny lips of the fae, feeling the slight breeze the flapping of her translucent wings created. He pulled back a little reluctantly, and also with a little difficulty. It seemed his balance was off. For a moment he considered the fact that he might be under a fairy spell, but quickly forgot the notion. "Now, little one, I declare that you have been properly kissed."  
  
Liona cocked her head to the side and tightened her mouth. "Not bad for a human. Ever considered becoming a fairy, mortal?"  
  
Jareth chuckled. "I am partly fae, little one. Perhaps it is where I get my charm."  
  
"What charm?"  
  
"Naturally, you would not admit it. I will not hold it against you." He pulled his hood back over his eyes. "Now, my dear, I have a journey to complete. Perhaps I shall see you again once I win this competition."  
  
"Maybe. If you win. And if I feel like it." Liona smiled at him warmly. "Now off with you, you spying mortal. No more prying for you!"  
  
"Yes, Madam." Jareth touched his hand to his forehead and approached the new maze. He traveled for sometime before he heard yet another female voice. Thinking that it may be the little fairy putting him to the test, he called out, "Whoever is there, be forewarned that someone is approaching!" Once he had come around the corner, he saw that the path led to a small glen of trees. The flowers and grass were abundant; he could make out an orange dress amidst the foliage and a beautiful singing voice. He smiled, pulled the cape closer about his face, then meandered into the glen. Once he could get a full view, he quickly saw that it was Sarah. She did not look up at him immediately, but continued in her occupation of creating a crown of flowers. Jareth sat next to her, not too close, and watched her with a gentle smile. Finally she looked up at him, holding the crown up as a frame through which to view him. "Yes, I think that will do!" she cried with a satisfied grin.  
  
"Pray tell, what are you doing, Your Majesty?" Jareth asked, his lips barely visible beneath the cloak, but very apparently smiling.  
  
"I am making you a crown. Take off your cloak and put it on." She reached up to pull his hood down, but was quickly stopped. He gently pushed her hand away.  
  
"I am sorry, but I cannot let you do that, not yet."  
  
She looked disappointed. "But, whyever not? You aren't the Phantom of the Opera, are you? A hideous face beneath that you are frightened to show me?"  
  
"Not in so many words, no. But I should at least like to wait." He smiled wanly. "I am terribly sorry."  
  
"What purpose is there in waiting? You have waited long enough."  
  
"You cannot tell me that one night and one day are that much torture, Your Majesty," Jareth replied with a mischievous grin.  
  
Sarah looked up at him and chuckled, her chuckle quickly fading into a somber silence as she gazed into the distance. "No, but these past four years have been."  
  
Jareth stared at her in astonishment. He took some moments to find his voice. "You knew it was me all along, then?"  
  
"How could I not? When it is only you that I have loved for so long? What kind of woman would I be if I did not recognize you?" She reached up and pulled the hood away from his face, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "You haven't changed so much that I couldn't tell. You are still handsome as ever."  
  
He took her hand in his. "Oh, My Love, I have waited so long, but trust me, I did have my reasons! I left for you, not to hurt you!"  
  
She put her finger to his lips to silence him. "Don't you think I knew that? I understood all along. I missed you, but I always knew you'd return. We both had a lot of growing to do." She smiled at him. "But now we can be together forever, without anyone getting in our way."  
  
A thought nagged at the back of his mind, one that indicated that things were not so simple, but he could not quite remember. So he ignored it and smiled back, gripping her hand tighter. Without anymore words, both closed their eyes and leaned in to kiss each other, their lips touching gently at first, but soon replaced with a passion that had been pent up for four long years. He slid his fingers into her curled hair as she wrapped her own fingers about his neck. It was such a perfect moment, overwhelming Jareth with the most wonderful of emotions, emotions that he hadn't felt for countless years. He could not even have dreamed up such a perfect ending.  
  
* * *  
  
The two lovers did not see the startled look on Isabelle's face as she held a crystal before her, her gaze transfixed on the scene before her. Neither did they see Sage looking over the girl's right shoulder as Vindar gazed over the left. "Oh my goodness!" Isabelle exclaimed, covering her mouth to stifle the gleeful giggles that were gurgling from her throat. "He thinks it's really Sarah! Liona's spell worked!"  
  
"What a mean trick!" Vindar declared, playfully poking Isabelle in the ribs. "It's a good thing that the queen was occupied during your little shinanigan, or she would have found out it was Jareth. Look, quiet! There she comes as we speak!"  
  
Sarah looked dazed as she approached the group, but soon lost her spaced expression when she saw their merriment. "What are you guys up to?"  
  
Isabelle quickly put the crystal behind her back. "Oh, nothing!"  
  
Sarah arched her brow. "Really? Let me see that!" She chased the young girl around, eventually tackling her, the both of them landing on the ground with gay laughter. Sarah managed to pry the crystal from the girl's grip. "Let me see what you did to poor Pandor!" Once she had gazed into the crystal, she lost her smile immediately. Only the back of the man's head was visible, obscured mostly by the hood of his cloak. But it was very apparent who he was kissing. "That's me!" Sarah exclaimed. "That is his little fantasy?!"  
  
Sage choked a giggle, but could not hold it down when Isabelle and Vindar broke into laughter as a result of Sarah's reaction to the scene. "Looks like Sarah has an admirer," he exclaimed, breaking out into riotous laughter. Soon everyone was rolling on the floor.  
  
"Really, Sarah, you should have seen your expression," Vindar said as his cackling dissipated into a chuckle. "But, I have to admit, you really asked for it. You should have let the man win fair and square."  
  
"Sarah and Pandor, sittin' in a tree -" Isabelle began.  
  
Sarah frowned and clutched the girl, tackling her again in silliness. "You be quiet, you little imp. I don't want to hear another peep from you." She then pulled the crystal back to her eyes. "Let's see what happens next, eh, since you're all having so much fun at my expense. You think they're done making out yet?"  
  
"I don't know, Sarah. It seems to me that a woman of your caliber could hold out for quite awhile," Vindar said, ducking when Sarah swung at him playfully. "No need for violence, dear queen! The truth isn't so painful!"  
  
"Yes, but my left hook is!" She gave him a mistrusting glance. "Besides, what do you know about women holding out? Anything Isabelle and I need to discuss?" She smirked at them with satisfied vengeance.  
  
Isabelle blushed and shoved Sarah playfully. "That was not fair!"  
  
"No, this would be unfair: Isabelle and Vindar, sittin' in a tree..."  
  
Isabelle turned a brighter shade of red as Vindar proceeded to laugh. The young girl redirected her gaze to chastise the elf boy. He quickly sobered up and said, "Yes, that's not fair, let the lass be." Isabelle nodded her head in approval. The boy gave her a mischievous grin. "Besides, the lady and I haven't yet gotten far enough for any discussion..."  
  
"Sh!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes transfixed on the crystal. "Listen! He just put his hood back on, and I can't hear with everyone talking!"  
  
Everyone became quickly silent and bent over Sarah's shoulder to watch the scene unfold within the depths of the crystal.  
  
* * *  
  
Jareth had suddenly remembered his quest... and that he had been kissed by a mischievous fairy only moments ago. It had taken him a minute to realize how odd such behavior would be for Sarah; he knew very well that she did not understand his reasons for leaving, nor did she ever think he would return. The Sarah that stood before him was an imposter, and he felt like a complete fool. He only hoped that his little excursion into fairy fantasy had not cost him his disguise. Though he would eventually reveal his identity to Sarah, he did not want to do so as of yet.  
  
"What are you doing?" the faux Sarah cried.  
  
"I am sorry, dear girl. But it is no time for make-believe." He pulled his hood close. "I have many things to attend to."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know very well, you mischievous fairy. You are not who you say you are... And I do not have any more time for tomfoolery." He began to walk away. Sarah's imposter turned into an explosion of light that transformed into the fairy Liona.  
  
"Oooh... Silly human, you spoiled my fun!" She shook her hair about petulantly and placed her hands on her hips.  
  
"I cannot say I am sorry. Find someone else to play your cruel tricks on. You have nearly spoiled my day."  
  
The fairy's expression of anger softened into one of shame. She threw her hands in the air and flew after him. "I'm sorry... I didn't realize how much harm it would cause. I didn't recognize you before... I really should have guessed."  
  
Jareth stopped abruptly and shook his finger at the fairy, whispering, "Now, please do not make things worse. Keep quiet about what you know. She could be listening. If you know about me, then you know what powers she has."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I had no idea you were so in love with her, or I wouldn't have done it."  
  
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "It is a pity... Very few seem to understand my affection for Sarah. I do not believe that even she does."  
  
"Wow. I never woulda thunk it. You are very little like I remember. I hope you have good luck."  
  
"Thank you, dear fairy." He shook his head and smiled. "I must hand it to you, though. I have not had such a kiss in four years. You truly make me sad that I am not fairy, as well."  
  
"What can I say? Runs in my tribe. You ain't so bad yourself." She began flapping her wings once again and rose from his shoulder. "Well, I will let you continue your journey. I must warn you, though. You have lost another hour. I've been keeping an eye on the others... and one person is only two hours behind you. You don't need me to distract you."  
  
"I assure you, you would be a welcome distraction." He bowed slightly to emphasize the statement. "But, you are correct. I must complete my journey, and the sooner the better. Thank you for an interesting hour."  
  
"Best of luck to you, though I doubt you'll need it!" She waved to him as he disappeared behind the shrubbery. Touching her lips in remembrance, she grinned exuberantly as she turned around to head back to her tree.  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah disengaged from the crystal, looking completely befuddled. "Why me?!" she exclaimed. "What cause does he have to love me?"  
  
Vindar nudged her. "Looks like you're the most wanted woman in the kingdom, Your Majesty."  
  
"I don't want to be!" she cried, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. Despite her exasperation, she could not hide the grin on her face.  
  
"Well, all we have to do now is to wait until he wins. You may not want him when you see how hideous he is," Sage joked.  
  
"Want him? I barely know him!"  
  
"I'm sure you'll find common interests," Sage replied with a smirk. Vindar and Isabelle were both apparently in on the joke, for they were trying to suppress chuckles.  
  
"All right, this is part of the surprise, I am willing to bet. So this Pandor is my dream man? We shall see. He has a lot of proving to do."  
  
"But he has already proven his intelligence and undying devotion. Are you not impressed?" Vindar asked her with a sarcastic tone.  
  
"It takes more than that to impress me."  
  
"Very well. We shall see." Sage rose and put his hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Until then, though, we have some business to attend to. I will need you to help me award the prizes to the best booths in just a moment. Pandor will be fine by himself for awhile, I should think."  
  
"He'd probably be better off without her paying him any attention, Father," Vindar said with a chuckle.  
  
"Now, that's enough, son. We've given the lady enough heartache, for now. Save it for later."  
  
"You all think you are so funny, do you? You just watch, I can play meaner pranks." Sarah put her hands on her hips and walked past the group and down the platform. The three glanced at each other, sharing the same cheshire cat grin.  
  
"Five hours to go before she eats her words, wot?" Vindar said.  
  
"I'd say four and a half. Maybe less." Sage then followed the queen. Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, smiling. Vindar slipped his arm about hers and led her down the platform, the two tailing behind the old elf and getting ready to join in the remainder of the festivities. 


	14. Chapter 13: Meetings and Confrontations

CHAPTER XIII: Meetings and Confrontations  
  
Eberon walked alone down the empty streets of the former Goblin City, looking over his shoulder agitatedly, barely able to compose himself at the sight of passers-by. Around one corner and the next, he finally found his destination: a little cottage on the edge of the city, somewhat isolated, its door open and waiting for its new guest. Eberon gave a sweeping glance around himself, and upon making sure of his solitude, he swept his cape behind himself and sauntered into the cottage, gingerly closing the door in his wake.  
  
Once inside, he was greeted by hazy darkness. A small crack in the shutters made the room somewhat discernible. The most certain element of the room was the shadow of a man. "Are you alone?" it asked.  
  
"No one has followed me," the elf king replied, a slight quavering seeping into his voice, against his will. "I did not expect to see you at this event."  
  
"Well, plans have changed." The shadowy man approached and his face came into sight as he passed through the beam of light. Black locks hung over his brow and feathers dangled near his face, fluttering with his raspy breath. He watched as Eberon made a very slight flinch at his words. "This troubles you, Eberon? You are not doubting my judgement?"  
  
Eberon looked up at him resolutely, his golden circlet the most obvious indication of his presence. "No, not at all, but I am not certain what your being here can do to help the situation."  
  
"I was not aware that there was a situation, but if you should like to call it that..." The man was silent for some moments; gracefully and calmly he turned to pull out a chair at a nearby table, where he sat down with a luxurious easiness and propped his feet on the table. He pulled out an amethyst, moon-shaped talisman from where it lay on his chest, suspended by a silver chain; he gazed into its depths as if in meditation, absorbed in its lilac beauty. As Eberon's eyes adjusted to the lighting he could see that the talisman was not just that of a moon, but that of a moon with two slitted eyes above it, bearing the horned feathers of some bird, gilded in silver. He did not find the talisman odd, for he had seen this emblem about the neck of his cohort in many fashions ever since he had met him. It was appropriate.  
  
Finally, the man looked up from his pondering, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The situation has changed, Eberon. I will begin the commencement of our plan on the morrow."  
  
Eberon lost his composure and his eyes widened with fervor. "What!? It was not to happen for at least another fortnight! I am not prepared... I was to be gone before you began it all!"  
  
"I see, you are doubting my judgment..." The man sat up slowly, threateningly.  
  
The elf worked his jaw about a bit as he tugged the end of his shirt taut. "No, not at all, but I confess that I don't understand."  
  
The man chuckled. "It is not like an elf to lose his head so. You should be more careful about that temper... It will be the death of you someday."  
  
Eberon understood. "I am sorry, Your Majesty. I only ask for an explanation."  
  
The feathered man seemed to be staring into a distant future, at Eberon and quite through him. "He is here. I knew he would be, but now my hopes are not without rewards. And there are other rewards. I will show you, elf king..."  
  
With a gentle tug at the air, the feathered man sent Eberon into a trance. The elf could feel himself being pulled into the imagery of the other man's mind. Suddenly Eberon was flying high above the city; he knew that he was seeing himself through the other's eyes, as the form of a bird. They were flying into the castle, through the great halls of Sarah's grand fortress. Before long they were in what appeared to be a bedchamber, flying through the taffeta curtains of a four-post bed. Perched atop one of the posts they gazed at a painting that hung on the wall. It was that of a dove and an owl, sitting side by side on the branch of an oak tree. As the moments passed, a slight throbbing light of a purple color began to emanate from the painting, and it grew stronger with each minute. Eberon was certain that this effect was due to the prompting of the sorcerer through which he was seeing. The throbbing light could mean only one thing... The last shard was hidden in the wall, behind the painting. The end of their search had come. Revenge, so sweet, would run its sharp course.  
  
The image faded and Eberon found himself once again within the confines of the cottage. The shadowy man faced him, silent and straightfaced. "You see, now, why there is no need to wait any longer. The wait always stops somewhere, and sooner is much better than later. And Sarah's lack of discernment in hiding the amethyst has brought about her downfall."  
  
"That is very true. Though I suppose her idea was that of Hiding in plain sight...'" Eberon paused a moment before continuing. "You say that the man you are looking for is here? The man that made it possible for Sarah to overcome you?"  
  
"Yes. He is. And the time is ripe. All of the chickens have come back to the coop... and it's time for a slaughter." A wicked smile played on his lips.  
  
"How will you take care of Sarah?"  
  
"That plan is already being carried through. I see no hindrance to my plan, as of yet. Though I know my foe is here, I have yet to actually find him. Once I do, there shall be no contenders."  
  
"Sarah is no fool. I do not see that a day's worth of wooing shall bring about her demise. Are you planning to play upon the feelings she once had for you?"  
  
"You insult me... Nothing should be staked solely upon woman's love, least of all the conquering of a kingdom. I have my ways. Once I am through with her, no semblance of love will break her from my grips." He walked to the window and gazed between the shutters. "Now you must go. If you are away from the ceremonies much longer, your absence will be felt. I will begin the preparations. You wait for my word. Tomorrow is the day."  
  
"One more thing..." Eberon stepped forward. "What are your plans regarding the troops?"  
  
"That, too, I have taken care of. I will send my minions to fetch some this evening. Trust me, we shall be primed and pitched for a war, and no one will ever suspect the elves."  
  
"Very good. Then all is settled. I will take my leave." The man nodded his head solemnly in response to the elf's words. As Eberon exited, he turned to wave. "Good evening, Jareth." He peered into the depths. A black raven stood where the man once was. The winged creature flew past Eberon and into the sky. The elf king shrugged his shoulders, closed the door, and hurriedly made his way back to the ceremonies.  
  
* * *  
  
Eberon entered one of the tents reserved for the royalty. The high sun had brought others there besides him; the place he had originally sought for solitude became the place he would least find it. The feline king Benedick and the dwarf queen Delina were there, engaged heavily in conversation. He sauntered to a chair nearby, but not too close, hoping that they would let him be to ponder his plans for the morrow. He couldn't help smiling to himself. Originally Jareth's presence had unsettled him, bringing forth an abundance of fresh fears for their enterprise. Thanks to the king's news, he was reassured to the point of foolhardy arrogance. If the elves knew, they would depose him, even exile him. But they would never find out, and one day he would be seen as the greatest of kings. The elves would rise above the rabble, and rule all, just as the fae were meant to do. All of the meager squabbles of the humans, the stupidity of the goblins, and the foolish fickleness of the felines brought such a disgust to him that he could barely contain it. Softhearted elves such as Sage only made things worse by involving themselves with this hoi polloi; indeed, Sage had even become their advisor and put himself beneath a human queen. Then again, Sage had himself been exiled, and was not an elf worth comparing anything relating to fae with the common folk. Sage was the commoner, as far as Eberon was concerned.  
  
"Dear Eberon," Delina said, breaking his reverie. "We were just discussing the birds. Would you like to join us in our pondering?"  
  
Benedick nudged the small woman in the side. "You mean our ranting and raving, screaming and pulling of hair, don't you, Your Majesty?"  
  
"Do not be so dramatic, Benedick!" Delina replied warmly, chuckling. "What do you say, Your Majesty?" she continued, facing Eberon.  
  
"Most definitely, dear lady. I am as eager as you to find the cause of these disturbances." Eberon rose and moved closer, his jaw tightening unnoticeably.  
  
"I should think you are!" Benedick exclaimed. "Your kingdom has been hit worse than any of us, if I dare say so! And you were the first to bring it to the attention of the council. I don't think any of us would have known that anything was truly wrong had it not been for your involvement."  
  
Delina nodded her head. "Yes, it was most noble of you. I don't think that this yearly celebration has ever seen such a turnout. It is truly admirable how strife always brings those who seem they have the least in common together. No doubt Sarah's grand presentation will make quite an impression on the kingdoms. I am willing to bet that it only gets bigger and bigger with time."  
  
"You bet!" Benedick replied. "Nothing like a good party, I've always said!"  
  
Delina laughed heartily. "You are so predictable, my feline friend! But we are not gathered to discuss revelry."  
  
"You are correct, dear queen," Eberon replied. "Strife does bring us together. The turnout is truly astounding. I predict only fair times for such a kingdom that has so many friends. I truly hope that we can find the cause of these disturbances and remedy them."  
  
"What do you think, Eberon? Benedick and I were just talking about the source. No doubt this must be the work of one who possesses magic? The birds would not do such things on their own?"  
  
Eberon crossed his hands in his lap. "Nature is quite affected by many things. The stars can control our behaviour, so why not that of the birds? The heavens themselves possess a magic all their own. Though I must confess, I do think it must be a sorcerer, or even a sorceress at work. A clever one. I think the thing to do would be to study the birds, then to keep a lookout for anyone who holds these birds in large quantities. Perhaps holds them captive in order to cast the spell, before setting them free to do their evil work. There are a number of ways that such a plan could be carried out, however. Without bounds. But it is up to us to discuss those most likely. Perhaps at the end of the celebration we could send out some of our servants to make a search about our own kingdoms, and those beyond."  
  
"You know, that is a splendid idea! I don't know why we did not consider that!" Delina said, looking at Eberon then at Benedick, her excitement compounding by the moment. "No doubt we will find out who is up to this! They could be hiding right under our noses!"  
  
"Your are very correct, Madame. But we will leave no stone unturned, nonetheless."  
  
"There's a good chap!" Benedick exclaimed, slapping the elf across the back, who replied with a grunt and a very affected smile. "Now we can go back to the wine! Solutions are marvelous, don't you think, Delina?"  
  
"Splendid. You weren't the one for work as a kitten, were you Benedick?"  
  
"How'd you guess?"  
  
"Call it a hunch." She slipped her arm through his and they departed the tent royally.  
  
Eberon let out a sigh and scowled. "Good chap... Yes, you drown yourself in wine, feline. It will be all that you will have for comfort shortly." He crossed his arms and smiled, self-satisfied. "Easily fooled fools. You wouldn't see a fairy if it bit you."  
  
* * *  
  
Toby walked down the streets of the neighborhood, his excitement growing at the thought of seeing his sister. Sarah had moved back to Woodland Hills two years ago, and, though she was frequently gone to give speeches here and there, especially in New York where her firm's main headquarters were, she was still around much more often than she had been while pursuing an acting career four years ago. While she was in town he would visit her whenever he could; she wasn't just his sister, she was his best friend. He knew she would understand his predicament.  
  
Lucky for him, her house was only a few miles away. He took the back streets in order to avoid his parents; it had been an hour since his departure, and no doubt they were looking for him by now. They had probably already been to his sister's house. Hopefully they would be gone by the time he got there. She would most likely be expecting him.  
  
His mind drifted to the stories his sister used to tell him. The place called The Underground, the Goblin King, and all of the creatures. Sometimes they all seemed so real to him, especially when she told the stories. It was as if she had been there. He wouldn't be surprised if she had. Sarah had always seemed magical to him; it wasn't until recently that he had started seeing some of the odd things characteristic to the world she had oft described to him. He had seen many more things than his parents had suspected. Before Sarah had moved back to Virginia he had seen goblins of all sorts, though they usually didn't bother him much, even seemed to find him very interesting and afraid to approach him. Once he was in the forest in the backyard, at his favorite clearing, when he saw fairies. He never told his parents; it was such a wonderful experience, but they were too old to understand. One pretty fairy had kissed him on the cheek. They didn't talk much, but played all kinds of fairy games and had let him join in. It was a shame that his parents could only know about those things for which he got in trouble.  
  
Out of all the creatures he had heard about in the pretend journeys of Sarah, his favorite was Rattlebeak. The little red bird that proved to be such a good friend to her and had helped to save her friends really delighted him. Toby had always loved birds, and Rattlebeak was especially interesting. He imagined that he was on some great journey, at this very moment, and that Rattlebeak was his companion, helping him to save the day as he had done in Sarah's stories.  
  
"We've gotta hurry and get to Sarah's house, Rattlebeak!" he exclaimed, make-believing that the bird was really there. "She's in great danger! The evil king and queen are going to try to cast a spell on her that will make her forget all about me! Then the goblins will come and get me, and I will not be able to escape, and she won't be able to help me, because she won't remember who I am!"  
  
"What's that? Sarah's in danger! Where am I? Peaseblossom, my love, where did you go! Oh, heavens, surely I am dreaming!"  
  
Toby stopped in his tracks and looked up in astonishment. There was Rattlebeak, just as Toby had always imagined him, and he was flying to and fro in confusion, muttering about his new state of affairs. "Rattlebeak!" Toby cried. "How did you get here? You're real!"  
  
The scrawny bird turned to face the young boy. "Well, 'course I am! But I thought maybe you could tell me how I got here!? And what's this about Sarah being in danger? Did she cast a spell to send me to you?"  
  
"No, I think I cast the spell...by accident. And Sarah's not in danger, I was just playing pretend." Toby smiled broadly, happy at his fortune. He would have a traveling companion! Did that mean that everything Sarah told him was not make-believe, or was Rattlebeak just a figment of his imagination? "You're just like I imagined!" he exclaimed joyfully.  
  
"What do you mean? Where is everyone?" Rattlebeak asked, still seemingly wary about approaching Toby, gazing at his surroundings in confusion.  
  
"Well, Sarah told me stories about you and the others, but I thought they were just stories! I guess everyone else that you are looking for is in the Underground. If you're not just something I created, like the cartoons."  
  
"Well, I'll be snarzled!" Rattlebeak exclaimed, perching atop Toby's shoulder. "So, you're the little one we went to save a long time ago? Jeepers! You're Sarah's little brother!"  
  
"Well, I'm Sarah's little brother, but I've never been to the Underground. Though I wish I had!" Toby continued his travels, a new spring in his step.  
  
"Sarah has another little brother?"  
  
"Nope. Just me. But, if you're real and the stories were real... Then maybe I was the little boy she always talked about in the stories. But I would have remembered it. The little boy was five years old in the last story she told. I remember lots of things from then, and no Goblin City. I never met the Goblin King in my life. I saw goblins for the first time when I was seven. That's crazy."  
  
"Maybe you just don't remember because someone kept the memories from you. With magic, anything is possible. I'm proof of that point!" Rattlebeak exclaimed, smiling at his new and strange circumstances. "This is great! But I have to get back, soon. Peaseblossom will be missing me."  
  
"Is that your girlfriend?"  
  
"Actually, she's my missus. We have three little chicks at our tree. She's going to have her hands full, all by herself. That little Rapscallion is a handful. Won't take a worm from anyone but me. Says they talk too much. Well, he doesn't say that, actually, I do. But I know he doesn't like it. They start reciting poetry, and it makes him all sniffly. Not to mention that Peaseblossom'll worry." A slight frown tugged at the corner of his beak.  
  
"Really, I don't know how to send you back. I don't always have such an easy time of undoing my spells. I don't even know how I do it in the first place. I just wish it. And I wish you could stay a little while... I'm in trouble right now." Toby pulled his backpack taut in his nervousness.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"Well, my parents don't believe in my magic powers. So I'm trying to find Sarah in order to get help. They want to send me to a counselor."  
  
"What's a counselor?" Rattlebeak asked.  
  
"It's a person that you have to see when you go crazy. They think I'm crazy. And I don't know how to make them believe me. But Sarah will know what to do."  
  
"That's no good! What kinda parents are they, anyway? Human grown-ups are so weird about magic. Numbers and metal magic is all they seem to appreciate." He turned to face the boy. "So you need me to help get you to the Underground, to Sarah's castle?" Rattlebeak asked. "Because I don't know if I can do that. I'm not really worth much without my tribe."  
  
"Yeah, I heard about how you could only cast spells in a -" Toby took a double take. "Wait, Sarah's not in the Underground. She lives here."  
  
"No she doesn't," Rattlebeak answered, his feathers ruffling in confusion. "She is the queen of Sunset City, what used to be the Goblin City. She became queen four years ago and has been there ever since. There's a big celebration this week. I would have come, but I had the little ones to take care of. They are only two weeks old, and I got lots to teach 'em."  
  
"But this is where Sarah lives! I visit her just about every day, when she's not out of town... Maybe she's not really ever going to New York?"  
  
"New York?"  
  
"A city that is... well, I guess you would call this Aboveground. It's a city far away from here. She always says she has to go there for business. Maybe she's really going to the Underground?"  
  
"That could be. Though I think she's there all the time. Maybe her twin, Leah, is taking her place."  
  
"Sarah has a twin!? No way!"  
  
"Tell you what," Rattlebeak answered. "You keep walking to Sarah's house, at least, what seems to be Sarah's house, and I'll explain it all to you. We'll figure it out. I'll try to help you the best I can, but I have to go back soon. Is it a deal?"  
  
"It's a deal! You know, you were always my favorite..."  
  
* * *  
  
Leah pushed through the crowd that was gathering for the near end of the Labyrinth competition. Hair tousled, arms crossed, gait purposeful with a hint of anger, she approached Sarah atop the stage. Sarah looked at her in confusion. Leah threw her hands out in exasperation. "So, what the Hell is going on with you anyway? I'm gone for three hours, looking at the booths and whatnot, and I return to hear from Isabelle that not only have you encouraged this new suitor of yours, Pandor, or whatever his name is, but you have also accepted a mysterious king into the kingdom. It's been a long time since I've seen you be this immature, Sarah! You make me think Jareth is behind your actions."  
  
Sarah took Leah by the arm, directing her pseudo-sibling away with a furrowed brow. "Leah," she whispered, "for one, this is an improper place to bring this up. For two, I am really beginning to tire of your incessant need to approach all issues with which you bear disagreement in such a tone. And it is about time that you leave Jareth out of this. Pardon me for expressing interest in a man, I know you are not used to me acting like a human being anymore."  
  
"One man!" Leah exclaimed in a loud whisper. "How about two? Or is there a third lurking somewhere? Did you get a kick out of seeing this Pandor guy making out with you? Into voyeurism, Sarah? Maybe the rest of the kingdom is... Were they watching too?"  
  
"Of course not!" Sarah answered angrily. "But, of course I can't make you understand, you never have known how to approach men."  
  
"It so happens that I do not feel the pressing need for a relationship, as you do. I have tried a couple, and they did not work out. I am a patient woman, Sarah, unlike you. I've had to wait for lots of things. But you have had everything handed to you... Everything you could want has always been at your fingertips, even a kingdom for the taking. I have waited and worked. You don't understand those words."  
  
"Okay, that's it!" Sarah turned to Sage who was apparently trying hard to stay out of the conversation. "Sage, if you will excuse us, we need to speak in private!" She began to drag her counterpart to the castle by the arm, but Leah quickly responded with an angry jerk away and an increase in distance between their walking bodies. Once inside the throne room, Sarah swung about and pointed her finger at the woman. "Look, Leah. I have worked for everything I have here. For four years I have toiled away to make this place great, to make up for sins that I did not commit. I may have shown one flawed action in taking this king in, I will admit to that, but Pandor is my business! I have waited four years to show interest in any man, and this is the first time I have even been slightly engrossed in a man! It is none of your business! And I certainly don't see where you have the right to preach to me! You have no right to pass judgement on me... You are never here to see what I do! You judge me based on my past behaviors, not the ones of a queen and diplomat, not of the woman I have become!"  
  
"Maybe I wouldn't make those judgements if you weren't currently acting like a teenage girl! And what makes you think you are suddenly ready for a relationship? From what I've heard, you've been pining away over Jareth since the day before Pandor showed up! I think you are putting your unhealthy infatuations back into another man!"  
  
Sarah raised her voice to such a pitch that Leah had never heard. "I am not infatuated with Jareth!!! I am in love with him!!" With that her face grew pale, she threw her hands into the air, spun about, and dropped her face into her hands, where she sobbed quietly.  
  
Leah stood silently, dumbstruck for some moments. Sarah looked up but did not turn around when a fiery peeked in, his orange feathers glistening with fairy glitter. "Your Majesty, there is a competitor close to reaching the city. Sage has asked you to join the festivities outside to welcome the winner."  
  
* * *  
  
Jareth turned the last corner, the last tree, the last riddle. He saw the doors of Sunset City looming before him, a prize won from what was for him a simple task. However, he felt that the true prize he would win was a veritable Pandora's box, and that he would open the box by merely opening the doors, bringing down upon his head all of the fears that haunted him in the night. Nay, all of the fears that stood on the very edges of the Underground, lurking and menacing, waiting for a day to bring fruition to all the evil that was within it to complete.  
  
However, evil thoughts did not cross his mind in his present state. Evil thoughts were far behind him, alien to him and without power over his soul. They had never truly been his thoughts, but this evil image is almost all Sarah had ever had of Jareth. What did Jareth truly bring for Sarah? Love, or impending doom?  
  
He could not fail now, not when he was so close. He paused in his tracks no longer and made the final steps to his present destiny. He only hoped that it would be a pleasant one, and, moreover, one that would hold a future that held Sarah, as well. Was it too late for second chances? It was a question that had plagued his nightmares and fantasies for four years, now. There was only one way to find the answer.  
  
If only this moment could be frozen in time. It is so perfect, but whatever comes in the next few moments can have a number of outcomes, all equally beautiful and frightening. If only I were a painted man on a Grecian urn.  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah strode out of the palace, trying with all her might to dispel the seething within. Leah had been judging her based on her adolescence for years, now, and it was about time for it to stop. But would it ever do so? As far as she knew, Leah could forever leave her in the mire of her understandably foolish ideals of her teen years. And, if she did, Sarah would have to find some way to deal with it. Four years had not changed things, so why should four more?  
  
Sarah ascended the steps to her throne, the center exhibit for the festival in the square. Her mind washed away thoughts of the previous battle between her and her former shadow. She looked out on a square full of creatures, most having left all other modes of entertainment to discover the winner of the contest. To her right stood the large scrying crystal, where she could see the winner approaching the doors to Sunset City, his cape consuming him in a darkness that was a sharp contrast to the vivid brightness of the day, and the phosphorescent greens that seemed to radiate from the nearby foliage. She knew it was Pandor, and was pleased to see that his cunning had made him the true winner. In fact, he had far outshone all of his competitors, leaving them behind in a two-hour wake, at the very least.  
  
Sarah noticed her mouth was dry. Was it the wine or was it something else? The nagging sensation came back again, the feeling that this was a man she knew but sometimes did not wish to know. What face was his? Was it of a man named Pandor, or another face, one that did not seem to match the presented persona, a visage of a beautiful soul that haunted her in her sleep? Sarah had heard elfin stories of the prophetic nature of dreams, but she also believed that one could interpret mere dreams based on fervent hopes as specters of a coming future, though they may not be. She wanted it to be what she dreamed. She wanted him to be who he was and who he was not supposed to be. Yet, she did not. She felt unable to face the possibility. So she captured herself in a spellbound obstinance to all thought, blocking out the whys, blocking out the possibilities, sending to the void a named desire she wished to remain nameless. What could a few more seconds hurt? For that was all she had before all truth was revealed.  
  
These are the times when one wishes to be caught in the moment of the present, for any future possibility will bring equal dismay and happiness. The Grecian Urn. She shook her head at her bizarre somberness. Jeez, Sarah, that was way over the top. You've been around Sage too long.  
  
Sage ambled to her side and nudged her. "You seem very thoughtful," he remarked softly, yet with an obvious enthusiasm and sense of expectation.  
  
"Yes, I am, about many things." Sarah sighed heavily and let her shoulders fall. They did not stay so for long; the doors opened more and yet more, until the body of a man could be seen, precariously making his way into a suddenly parting sea of cheering people and creatures. Her shoulders were suddenly erect, and at attention, though her face bore a somber smile. "Well, there is our winner."  
  
Sage chuckled. "Yes, and the source of all my merriment and all of your torment. You will see. Things will work out the way you always hoped. Just remember, Sarah. Remember what I have taught you: Always recognize the good in others, for, if you cherish it, it will never fail you. In the end you shall be rewarded for your faith a million times over."  
  
Sarah's eyes widened as she became doubly aware of her dry mouth and suddenly moist palms. Ignorant bliss demolished through truth, Sarah waited for the figure to float through the people and up the steps to her throne, achingly slow in the mesmerized trance of her mind, painfully bringing an eventual absolution of all her questions, donning a cape that was too slow approaching yet too terribly close to becoming removed.  
  
Finally, Pandor, or whom Sarah had heretofore called Pandor, placed his foot upon the final step, looking like a squire coming to the queen to be dubbed with knighthood. Sarah could catch a glint of intense, green eyes, eyes that she had seen only two times before in reality, a thousand times over in dreams. A taut mouth, smiling ever so slightly and ever so sweetly, there was a sincerity that she had detected in this man that had made her doubt.  
  
She pulled herself out of an obvious reverie, licked her lips, and prepared herself to make a speech she had practiced for a week, now. No matter how eloquent and natural a speaker she was, somehow she knew this would be the first in years to sound rehearsed, dry, and far away from her mind.  
  
"Well, it looks like our winner has placed himself amongst the ranks of intelligent men, women, and creatures everywhere by solving the convoluted labyrinth! Please, let us have one round of applause for his ingenuity and cleverness!" The crowd whistled and cheered, while Pandor greeted their applause with a slight nod of his head. Sarah took a deep breath and addressed him. "Now, please give us the honor of seeing who bears such a cunning mind."  
  
Slowly, with unshaking yet reluctant motion, he pulled the cape from the position from whence it concealed his face. A sharp intake of breath made an audible snatch as Sarah revealed her surprise, however slightly and queenly in its composure. Sarah took in the changes of four years; Jareth's face was not quite so gaunt as it had once been, but it possessed a thinness, not characteristic of a villainous man, but of a self-suffering ascetic. Intense, green eyes glistened from a face bearing a healthy olive complexion, that had been somewhat tanned from long days in the sun. Golden hair flowed in one stream, thick and cream-streaked in the sunlight, tied in the rear by a green strip of leather. Hair of the same gold shone on his face, where a goatee, trimmed neatly, encompassed a wary, yet sincere smile.  
  
Something seemed to click within Sarah, and her face suddenly returned to its natural glow. "Well, well, if it isn't Pandor?! I had a gut feeling you were going to win!" She shook her head, her smile too big for the occasion. She looked out upon the crowd. "Well, you all know what the reward is for the winner!" She looked at Jareth. "I suppose you will wish to take it now?"  
  
Jareth arched his brow slightly, then looked to Sage for clarification as to this unexpected and somehow absurd geniality on the part of Sarah. The elf merely shrugged his shoulders.  
  
Jareth addressed Sarah, keeping the audience at the corner of his vision and attention. "I would never dream of accepting a coerced kiss from Your Majesty. I would be content to be allowed the reward of kissing your hand. To succeed in your name is the greatest reward of all."  
  
"Very well, then. It shall be as you have asked." She raised her hand slightly, but it was Jareth who had to step forward in retrieving her hand. He placed a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand that would have chilled her, had not something else unwarranted and unexpected within Sarah chilled her sooner, and in a different manner. Upon the completion of the kiss, Sarah looked out upon the crowd and said, "This fine gentleman will be the guest of honor at a fine banquet planned for this evening, as promised. Until then, make merry and prepare for the biggest feast of all! Good day to you all!"  
  
Those final words said, Sarah turned around. Her face made an abrupt transformation. She approached Sage and took a deep breath before saying in a level, consciously controlled voice, "I do not know what made you think this was a good idea. I have no clue what you thought I would find humorous about this. I will speak with you later, but not now. I must calm myself."  
  
She then walked to confront Jareth. She did not speak to him, but turned to face Sage, whose face was dark with sadness. "Please make sure he is led to his quarters and given his clothing for the evening." She faced Jareth once again, whose composure was that of a man being dealt well-deserved retribution. "You and I shall talk, as well. When I am more fit."  
  
With that, she rushed off at Godspeed, tending to the few errands remaining from without the castle, leaving a baffled Sage and a somber Jareth in her wake. 


	15. Chapter 14: Adventurous Souls

CHAPTER XIV: Adventurous Souls  
  
The twilight air was very brisk, so Toby imagined coats for the two companions before they went outdoors in order to depart. He looked to his flying companion, a confused look on his face. Gazing into the sky, he bit his lip and put his finger to his chin. "Um, you know, I just thought of something."  
  
"What's that?" the bird asked, fluttering to his side.  
  
"I don't exactly know how to go about flying."  
  
"Why do you need science now? Just count on the magic for everything. You don't have to know how to fly. The magic does."  
  
Toby smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, here goes, then." Reaching his arms out to the sky, he lifted gradually, giggling as he did so. "Gee, this is so cool!" Rattlebeak was close in the rear, catching up to his soon fast-flying body.  
  
"Gosh, kid! You're a natural! You'd think you'd been flying before! You sure you're not scared?"  
  
"Nope!" Toby sped back toward the bird and around, making a half arc as he did so. "I really feel like I've flown before. I can't believe I'm doing this!"  
  
"Well, you are!" Rattlebeak made a nervous glance to the ground below. "You know, kiddo, I think we should be careful of people seeing us. From what I've heard, people Aboveground ain't so accepting."  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right. We'll go down the highway, over the forest. Maybe we can fly above the clouds..."  
  
"You probably don't wanna do that," Rattlebeak replied. "Take it from me; in weather like this, the air high up is bound to be colder than a witch's castle in the middle of December."  
  
"Okay, then we'll just stick to the treetops." Toby took one more awed look at the passing housetops and wondered just how much better the day could possibly get.  
  
* * *  
  
Leah stepped through the mirror that led into her bedroom and turned around to see her reflection. How much worse could the day possibly get? A nice red spot on her new dress where some drunk gnome had spilled wine on her and some grass in her hair from the time the clumsy beast had knocked her over into a pile of hay. Had she not had to deal with Sarah and her stupidity, she would have been able to laugh it off. Why did it seem that every time Leah came back into Sarah's life it was at a time of high drama? Maybe she was just perpetually over the top. God only knew how the woman could live like that.  
  
She stepped into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of her own favorite rum and coke. Taking a swig, she walked back through the living room to head back to her bedroom. Leah was just beginning to untie her dress when she heard a strange sound. She turned to the source and found her pager buzzing on the couch. Bending over, she lifted it up to her gaze. "Fifteen calls? In two days? Jeez, why can't they leave me alone long enough to have a vacation? I told them not to call me..." She headed toward her room. "Probably want me to go to New York to sort something out for the conference. I wonder what Jack messed up this time." She unzipped her dress and tossed it to her bed, continuing to talk to herself in the process of undressing. "I told him where all of the figures were and how to put together the lecture on the water filtration systems. He better not have lost them already." Plopping down on her bed, she picked up the pager to examine it. She scanned them one by one. "Jack...mmhmmm, I knew it... Lorraine, Jack again, and again, and Dad.... I wonder what he wanted? Here, he called again... And again... The rest of these are all from him.." Her facial expression transformed from one of irritation to worry as she flipped through the pages. The very last one included the numeric message "911". Leah had an idea of what was wrong before she even dashed to the living room to check the answering machine.  
  
"Toby. What have you done now, silly boy?"  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah felt anxious, tired, frightened, angry, elated. She tied up the few loose ends for the evening, the part of her that wanted to chase Jareth into the bedroom and drag information out being suppressed by the part that desired to lock him up in her dungeons for the rest of eternity. Endless sleepless nights, oceans of tears passed through her mind's eye in memory as she thought of all the pain that had come of his leaving. Dealing with remaining matters with a somber face, she trudged into the castle, a small retinue in her wake. Once inside the throne room she was greeted with a hushed silence, an abrupt change from the city hubbub. It was not to remain so for long, as a fiery and a goblin pushed through the crowd, their hands gripping the wire frame of a cage. Inside were two gnomes, and neither creature seemed too fond of the idea of letting their prized little men go. "We must speak to the queen!" they demanded.  
  
Sir Didymus was running after them, catching up, short of breath. "I tried to stop them, Your Majesty, but they were too fast for me, and Ambrosius drank of a puddle of brew and has gone gallivanting about I know not -"  
  
Sarah put up her hand to silence him, her face weary, but showing a spark of life at a new distraction. "Let them speak Didymus, it is alright. What would you two fellows have of me?"  
  
The goblin spoke first, holding the cage tightly, apparently trying to jerk it from the grip of his fiery cohort. "These here gnomes were makin' trouble a little while ago, making me lose my britches and whatnot, so I went to catch them --"  
  
"That's not true!" the fiery interjected. "You didn't try to catch them, no sir! I caught 'em, fair and square, and they aren't troublemakers, just a couple of fellows looking to have a good time!"  
  
The gnome who wore the fedora hat motioned agreement with a wave of his fist. "You tell'im, sir!" His curly-headed companion merely belched and fell to the floor of the cage. "I knew I liked fieries for a reason!"  
  
"I was talkin'!" the goblin exclaimed vehemently.  
  
"Let our goblin friend speak, please, and then you shall have your turn," Sarah said to the fiery, turning as she did so to face the goblin. "Now you may continue."  
  
"Well, as I said, he stole'em, and, as you can see, they're both part leprechaun, and they're rightfully mine. I deserves them for all the trouble they done caused me!"  
  
Scotty, the one with the hat, crossed his arms and snuffed his nose at the whole onlooking crowd. "You're a fine one, hehe! We be special leprechauns, as you can have no ownership of us, and won't be gettin' an ounce of our gold." He looked disgustedly to his drunken companion, and yanked on his ear, to which the little man replied with exaggerated howls of pain. "If this'n hadn't gotten so drunk, aye, we would have gotten away!" Scotty crossed his arms and sighed. "Though it beats the Hell outta me how's this one knows we be part leprechaun..."  
  
"Alright, dear fellow, I think that's enough." Sarah shook her head and smiled wanly at the silliness of it all. In all truth, she did not feel like dealing with such a trivial situation when larger matters were on her mind, so she came up with the easiest solution possible. "There are no prisoners in our kingdom, so we shall let them go. But not without punishment for being so harsh on you." She nodded her head to the goblin. "You fellows will get to help wash dishes after tonight's feast. That shall be your punishment. And don't try sneaking away, because you know I have my ways of finding people..."  
  
"But, Your Highness!-" The cry came from three mouths: the fiery, the goblin, and Scotty. Fred merely applied a hearty belch to the exclamation.  
  
"That's it! My mind's made up. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to." She bent down to speak to Scotty. "And I'm sure that the red hair and Irish accent had something to do with them thinking you were leprechauns."  
  
"Aye, but goblins aren't smart enough to be figurin' that out," Scotty mumbled.  
  
Smiling slightly, she turned around, leaving the group to bicker amongst themselves, Damion taking it upon himself to make sure the gnomes found the kitchen sink without any trouble.  
  
As Sarah was beginning to head upstairs, Delina and Benedick stopped her. "There she is!" the dwarf queen cried. "We've been looking all about for you, dear girl!"  
  
The two were arm in arm, glowing with wine and eagerness. "Yes, Sarah Lass, we wanted to tell you about a marvelous plan that Eberon had... We think it's a good cause for a meeting. It's about our little bird problem."  
  
"Yes, it was such a grand idea! We want to share it with everyone, in close quarters, of course," Delina added.  
  
"Very well, then," Sarah replied, looking for all the world that she wanted nothing more than to escape. "We will hold a meeting after dinner. Would you two be so kind as to inform the others? I am sure they will be happy to know we have a plan in the workings. If you need anything, please see Damion. He will be glad to help you with anything you can think of."  
  
"Thank you, Your Highness," Delina said, concern showing on her face. Sarah didn't give her time to inquire. She began her ascent of the stairs, leaving Delina and Benedick behind to look at each other in confusion. Benedick merely shrugged his shoulders and led his friend to more enjoyable company.  
  
Sarah walked up the staircase straight-backed, her face composed and stern. Once she reached the height of the ascension, she turned a corner, looked around, and upon ascertaining her solitude, she fell into the wall, raising her arms above her head. She felt the cold stone prickle the hairs on the soft warm flesh on the underside of her arm. She stared into the gray stone, immersed in her shadow. Gold-orange light danced off the stone and mortar in her peripheral. She waited for tears to come. She wanted tears to come. She felt so bewildered.  
  
Think, Sarah, think. Her mind could not focus. No matter how she tried, everything spun about endlessly, with no resolve. Only three sentences echoed in the background...  
  
He's in the castle. He's here right now. He has returned.  
  
She spun around, her back against the wall. She looked into the ceiling, dizzy and crazed. She would have remained there for hours had she not heard a familiar voice echo through the castle, in search for her.  
  
"Sarah," Hoggle's voice pleaded from everywhere and nowhere. "I need you."  
  
She quickly noted the tone of sorrow in the dwarf's voice and stood straight. "Where are you, Hoggle?" she asked, looking into the glowing candelabra across from her.  
  
"Pa's room."  
  
"Oh no," Sarah whispered to herself. She forgot her search for tears and pulled out a crystal, easily making the transformation that would take her quickly to where she was needed.  
  
* * *  
  
Kaleb sat in the shadows of his chambers, a glass of wine glistening slightly as it hung from his two extended fingers. There was a deep scowl on his face, his eyes mere slits.  
  
A resonant, masculine, but cracking voice spoke from the shadows, large brown feathers rustling in the wake of warm breath. "What is your plan, My King?"  
  
Kaleb downed his wine before throwing the empty glass violently against the wall. It shattered loudly, but neither the owner of the question nor the king flinched. "I have already begun my plans." A smile passed fleetingly across his face at his next statement. "The chaos has begun. It should distract her... for awhile."  
  
"When shall I call the troops to surround the city?" A large Spangore sauntered from his hiding place in the shadows, his beak long, sharp, and lean. The edges of his feathers were soft and gray with age, his body muscular, bone structure strongly visible wherever it came close to the feathery flesh. Eyes that were black and small peered from beneath a brow bushy with full, black feathers. He wore a black, alloy gauntlet about his haunches.  
  
"Tell them to be ready at five in the morning, in case I must make an early approach. Unless, I say so otherwise, the attack shall begin at noon. Everyone will be in the square by then. Anyone who is not, we can gather up easily." He remained silent for quite awhile, walking about the room and analyzing it as he went. He picked up objects, looked at them, then put them down with disinterest, as if turning his nose up at the work of the interior designer who had seen fit to put the room together as they had. Finally, he looked up at the patient bird. "Tell me, Claw... How did I err so greatly in my estimation of him?"  
  
"Sire, I know no words of mine will cool your anger," the bird said matter- of-factly as he stared unflinchingly into the eyes of his king. "You judged the situation well for the information you had. Jareth has been hiding as a coward for four years now. He has surfaced at these celebrations year after year, never making his presence known. The man has been a scar to your true name. What indication did you have that he would find the stupidity to muster what was needed to approach Sarah? If you had been presented with any clue hinting to his action, you would have looked into it. I say that we just must be more cunning. There is much remaining worth salvaging."  
  
Kaleb rested his hand on the mantle. "Yes, Claw, these things are true. What is most foul that I still have no idea how he has managed to elude me when traveling to his home these four years. He possesses no magic without me, without the crystals. He is an empty shell, yet he continually eludes me. Had I been able to keep watch over him, I would have seen this coming."  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty. But you can keep an eye on him now."  
  
Kaleb closed his eyes thoughtfully. Upon opening them he stood straight, returning to his seat. "Yes. In this, as all things, you are correct. There is no time to delay. We only have but to keep Sarah occupied for four more hours. Perhaps not too much damage will have been done before I have followed through with my plans for this evening."  
  
"So you know where the final shard is, then?" the bird inquired with slanting eyes.  
  
"Oh yes. Once I have Sarah in my power, I will be more powerful than all... And I will have beaten Jareth completely." 


	16. Chapter 15: Chaos Reigns Supreme

CHAPTER XV: Chaos Reigns Supreme  
  
Jareth paced his chambers anxiously, his eyes dark and brooding, his lips pursed in thoughtful contemplation. He looked up immediately when the door to his room opened, and the small, gray-haired elf called Sage stepped into the haven of the bedroom and its flickering,, low-lit embrace.  
  
"I apologize for not getting here sooner," the elf remarked. "I could not escape all of the minions begging for my expertise."  
  
"No, no, think nothing of it," Jareth replied rather distractedly as he stopped to analyze the condition of his goatee in the oval mirror that adorned the wall. The motion was less one of vanity and more one of fidgety nervousness.  
  
Sage tilted his head to the side and approached the man's side, putting a caring hand upon his shoulder upon reaching him. "How are you, Friend?"  
  
The former Goblin King abruptly ceased in playing with his facial hair and gave Sage a wan smile. "About as well as can be expected, I suppose." He moved from beneath the elf's grasp and plopped into a cushioned chair against the wall. A pitiful sigh escaped his lips. "Oh, Sage, she hates me! I knew it! This was all a mistake... I should not have concerned myself. I should have saved everyone coming agony by ending my life years ago."  
  
An angry tone oft unfamiliar to Sage took hold of the elf's voice. "Now, listen here! I will have no more of your foolish talk of death. Heaven knows how I have kept you from the notion thus far, and I cannot understand why you embrace it to this day! For one, Sarah does not hate you. She has told me from her own mouth only last night that she bore an undying love for you. Yes, she is angered, but she does not hate you. For two, there are many other ways we can dispel your shadow, and it does not require you killing yourself." He paused and looked at Jareth from beneath sunken brows. His tone was suddenly quiet and somber -- and somewhat sheepish. "Besides, we may have our chance sooner than we thought."  
  
Jareth sat upright immediately and faced the elf with a new, bitter resolve. His face twisted into a look of combined concern and disgust. "Why do you say that?" His tone implied that he already had an idea of what the answer to his question was.  
  
"Well, a mysterious 'King Kaleb' has shown up for Sarah's little gathering. And, well, let's say I have a very bad feeling about him. Though I don't wish for this knowledge to bring you down any further, my friend, Sarah seems to have taken an equal liking to him as to Pandor. It is really beyond me what made her go to the extreme she did. Not only did she allow him and his entourage to take part in the festivities, knowing that neither of us had heard of him or his kingdom once in the past four years, but she invited him to remain as a royal guest in the palace."  
  
Jareth stood up, apparently flustered beyond belief. "What did you say? No! No, this can't be... Why did I not sense him? But it must be him! Who else could it be!? And he's in the castle... No doubt he is here for the shard... And the competition! He knows I am here, as well! By the stars! What are we going to do?" As he made each exclamation he emphasized it with a decisive turning about in his sudden, flurried pacing.  
  
"Now, now, Jareth, please be calm. There is no good to come of this. We must discuss all of this with Sarah and come up with a plan. Do not forget your main reason for coming here. We must warn Sarah and get her to cast the spell." Sage took a seat himself and looked somberly at his friend. "It does not overly surprise me that you did not sense him. Your sensitivity has waned as time has passed; especially with your loss of powers, well, it is no doubt you did not see him coming."  
  
Jareth shook his head. "Well, what is the plan?"  
  
"I have heightened security. Damion is currently looking into Kaleb's origin. If we are lucky, I am wrong about him."  
  
"I am sure you are not incorrect," Jareth replied from a downturned face.  
  
"What do you think his plan is, Jareth?" Sage asked.  
  
Jareth stared off into the distance and replied, "I am not certain, but I would guess that he will strike as soon as possible. I am sure he knows of our suspicions. And he definitely is aware of my presence. His first plan, though, above all else would be to retrieve the shard. Perhaps that is the reason for him getting close to Sarah. Do you know if he has spoken to Sarah more personally, or not?"  
  
"I have heard rumors that they were seen dancing earlier today."  
  
"I should have not been so silly. I should have made my presence known immediately and not given him the chance to have any sort of privacy with her. Damn him and damn me!" With a loud thud, Jareth banged his fist angrily against a nearby dresser.  
  
"Look, now, I understand your pain, Jareth, but I tell you again that your anger will bring about nothing. We must act swiftly if he is doing all that you have predicted. We must go and speak to Sarah now. She must tell us the location of the shard."  
  
"Yes, you are right. Let us go find her now." Jareth retrieved his leather jerkin from where it lay on the back of the dresser table chair and put it on. "I suppose now is as good a time as any for us to begin to make our amends."  
  
Together the man and elf left the room and began the ascent of the stairs that led to Sarah's study. As they made their way, step by step, Damion began to rush down the staircase, his feathers in a flurry. His glasses teetered off the edge of his beak as he stopped before Sage. "Oh, oh.." his voice trembled in shrill tones, "it is absolute chaos, Sage! I just cannot begin..."  
  
Sage put his hands on the shoulders of the bird-man and said, "Well, you must begin somewhere, my friend. Give me a whole account. What is the matter?"  
  
Damion straightened his glasses with a trembling wing. "It is simply horrible! The gnomes who were assigned kitchen duty for their misbehavior have set the kitchen on fire! It is under control, but is still ablazing... And I have been sent by Mrs. Hiddlebury to find Sarah and a doctor, and --"  
  
"Wait, wait there, my friend! A doctor! For whatever reason could Mrs. Hiddlebury be in need of a doctor!?" Sage's eyes were wide as he crossed his arms somberly.  
  
"It looks as if the elderly Hoggle is having quite a bit of trouble... We all fear the worst. It happened only moments ago." Damion became so exasperated that he dropped the papers that were his constant companions on the floor clumsily.  
  
Jareth turned to face Sage, his expression serious. "Poor Hoggle. To think what I put the little man through all of those years... What a terrible time for all of these things to happen."  
  
The silence penetrated for a few moments before Sage noticed that Damion's jaw was trembling in fear, as if he was apprehensive about the next thing he would have to say.  
  
Sage's brow sunk as he prompted the bird. "What else?"  
  
"I have no strong evidence, but I fear it is as you predicted. King Kaleb has no definable origins... No history past that of four years ago, when he began his kingdom." Damion gulped. "He is not in his room, either. No one has seen him." His jaw moved without sound.  
  
"Yes?" Sage prodded.  
  
"And there have been reports of... crows, Sir. I checked myself... The sky is full of them. They swarm through every tree, have taken every bough. They are eating the leftover food from the celebration. There is a great deal of panic. This too, has just recently developed."  
  
Jareth moved quickly and forcefully, placing his hand firmly upon the bird's shoulder. "Do you know where Sarah is, now, Damion?"  
  
"I believe she has already been summoned... She is probably with Hoggle. I have not yet been able to make her aware of the birds. I thought it wise to first contact you, Sage --"  
  
"Where are you going, Jareth?" Sage asked.  
  
Jareth turned to face him. "I am going to find Sarah."  
  
"You forget how things have changed, my friend. Hoggle's quarters are this way," he pointed down the stairs and gave the man a slight grin.  
  
Jareth merely redirected his journey with a speedy gait. "Very well. Let us find her, then."  
  
"What shall I do?" Damion called after Sage.  
  
"Alert all of our royal guests of this turn of events... Mobilize the army! Contact me via my amulet if anything else comes up! And get someone to get the doctor for Mr. Hiddlebury!" Sage ceased his speech just before it became barely audible in his departure.  
  
Damion faltered a moment before leaving, as well. "Oh dear, me," he mumbled. "I think I need another job."  
  
  
  
Jareth and Sage talked on the way to Hoggle's chambers, their walking hurried under the stress of the chaotic circumstances. "What does this Kaleb look like, Sage? I take it he and I are not the same in appearance. At least, not anymore."  
  
"I don't know... He is your height, as I recall. Black hair, black eyes... He seems to have a fetish for the color black, and a fetish for feathers, like you did at one time, my friend."  
  
Jareth gave the elf a sidelong glance. "I assure you, the feathers were all him. I no longer get a kick out of wearing boas." He seemed pensive. "The color black does not surprise me. But what about the face? What does his face look like? I want to be able to know who I am looking at, though I am sure Iwill have no doubts when I am looking at him."  
  
Sage pondered the question a moment; they passed areas of raucous talk, where people and creatures alike were gabbing about the appearance of the birds. The fear seemed to be mounting; people had heard stories about what had happened in the other kingdoms. Jareth looked at Sage with a furrowed brow. "Black and feathers, eh? Very crow-like, wouldn't you say? Does he have an aquiline nose to boot?"  
  
Sage smirked. "As a matter of fact, yes. And a wide, brooding brow. No doubt the ability to summon birds. I would bet all of this chaos, even other than the birds, is his doing." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I wouldn't get too caught up in assigning this man a face, Jareth. I am sure he has the ability to take any form he chooses. He has a piece of the amethyst. He does have his limits, but he can do nearly anything he likes."  
  
"You do not have to remind me. Ah -- I take it that those are Hoggle's chambers." He stopped before a room where close friends of Hoggle crowded round. Ludo, Didymus, and a number of other creatures huddled around the door in expectation of news. "Let us through," Sage called as he pushed his way into the crowd. They passed Ludo and Didymus, the fox sitting on the large shoulder of the beast. The fox's eyes followed the two men as they entered the room, his jaw agape in wonder.  
  
"W-was that who I dost think it was, my brother?" Didymus asked, his eyes transfixed where Jareth retreated behind the closing door of the bedchamber.  
  
Ludo merely shrugged his shoulders in reply, knocking the sitting Didymus from his seated position in the process. Didymus landed on the ground with a thump and got up quickly, brushing himself off as he gave the beast an exasperated glance from below. "Now, brother, you must be more careful!"  
  
Ludo picked him up and replaced the fox to his former place. "Sorry, Brother."  
  
They entered the room and were rewarded with a number of stares. Some were not quite so amiable; Jareth assumed that they belonged to former-goblins- turned-humans. The most obvious and bitter stare was that of Sarah. She did not address her anger, but merely returned her glance to the tormented Hoggle Senior. Her gaze softened in sympathy and she put her hand on his. His face was contorted with pain. "What can I get for you until the doctor comes, Hoggle? I am at your disposal."  
  
"A good strong liquor," he rasped with a sarcastic, yet painful, smile. It was quickly demolished as he was overcome by a wave of physical anguish; he grunted at its onslaught.  
  
Sarah's own wan smile was destroyed at the sight of his suffering. She turned toward a servant that stood nearby. "Please get him some alcohol, Deana," she bid the young woman, touching her softly on the arm as she said it. The girl nodded somberly before leaving the room.  
  
Jareth looked on from the back of the room while Sage approached Sarah, took her to a corner in the room, and quietly relayed the news to her. He was saddened by Mr. Hiddlebury's suffering, amazed by Sarah's level of maturity in handling such difficult affairs. She acted twice her age in matters regarding the people of her kingdom. He observed her unshamefully as she spoke to Sage, her level of amazement obviously increasing as shown by the changing states of her expression. Her hair was tousled, her flowers and barettes having been removed long ago. She stood tall in her dress, despite her apparent wearines. Like a weather-tortured oak she stood proud, reaching her arms out to shelter those under her. Caring and gentle, despite her bitterness toward the storm. It was a misfortune that Jareth was a part of that storm, one more piece of hail in an already too-beaten world. But she is so beautiful and entrancing, he said to himself, as if he had to excuse his actions. She makes a man want to live no matter how much he could want -- or need -- to die. Her eyes met his, disapproving of his watchfulness. He did not turn away; though he felt a slight impulse to avert his gaze, he was too old and life-wearied himself to fear showing his attentions. He was not ashamed of his love for her, even if he had no right to it.  
  
Sarah approached Mrs. Hiddlebury and informed her that the doctor was on his way. She then began to leave the room, just reaching the door when the young Deana was coming in with various types of alcohol. "I didn't know what to bring, Your Majesty, so I brought a couple of things." Sarah observed the variety of alcoholic beverages, and, seeing a small bottle of opened wine amongst them, said, "Give me the wine. I don't think it will be of any help to Mr. Hiddlebury. However, I am currently in great need of it." The girl handed her the bottle, a glass, and curtsied. "Yes, Your Majesty. Shall I take care of him while you are gone?"  
  
"The doctor is on the way, Deana. You can help Mrs. Hiddlebury look after him for the time being. I have other matters to attend to."  
  
Hoggle had come into the room and heard her last statement. "What's going on? Is my Papa okay? I just went to bring him something to calm'is nerves." In his hands he held two corked jugs of liquor, both looking more potent than anything Deana would have been able to acquire.  
  
Hoggle Sr. chuckled and rasped, "That's mah boy." The effort cost him, for he was soon hacking away.  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury's coughs barely distracted the group as they continued to talk; Hoggle grabbed a glass from Deana, filled it up, gave Jareth the evil eye, handed the drink to his father, and spoke to Sarah, all in one swift movement. "Is it the birds? I believe there is a bit of trouble outdoors. What's goin' on, Sarah?"  
  
His comment brought on a slight rush of panic amongst the onlookers. They had been closed in the room for awhile, and had not received any of the news. Sarah waved them to silence while still grasping a wine glass as she spoke, "Now please, no one panic. I am not quite sure what is going on... Just be patient, and look after Hoggle's father. I will look into matters. There will be no trouble tonight if I have anything to say about it." She gave Jareth a sidelong glance before exiting the room. Sage and Jareth were in her wake.  
  
"What is the matter, Your Majesty?" Didymus asked as he came to attention, noticing the distraught nature of his queen as she approached.  
  
"Didymus, there is little time to explain. I haven't gotten all the details yet, but we are in the midst of a bird encounter like the other kingdoms experienced. I want you to be on the lookout... Go to the Plaza and keep track of whatever you can that goes on with the birds. Take note of anyting strange." She turned to face the beast. "Ludo, you go with him and make sure nothing happens to him."  
  
"Ludo tell King," Ludo said as a counteroffer.  
  
"No, don't worry about it, Ludo. Damion is already taking care of it. Just do as I have asked."  
  
"We are at your service, Your Majesty!" Didymus exclaimed as he saluted her, standing upright on Ludo's shoulder. As the trio - Sarah, Sage, and Jareth -- departed, they did not notice as Didymus lost his balance once again and fell from the beast's shoulder.  
  
Ludo merely shrugged, dusted his brother off, and followed him to the exit.  
  
  
  
As they walked, Sarah began to pour herself a glass of wine. She held the cork between her teeth as she stopped to keep the pink liquid from sloshing out of the glass. It did not take her long to down one glass; she poured a second before leaving the bottle on the ground against a nearby wall and continuing her journey. "Fill me in, Sage," she demanded in a very business- like tone. "I want to know everything."  
  
"As it turns out," Sage began while he walked along Sarah, "Kaleb is the cause of all of this. He is the summoner of the birds, and there is no doubt in my mind that he somehow instigated all of the havoc that has begun."  
  
"What do we know about him? Why is he here?" Sarah pursed her lips. "He must want something..."  
  
"Yes, he does," Jareth replied as he sped up his pace to walk alongside Sarah. "He wants the amethyst."  
  
"For all I know, Jareth, that is what you are here for. For all I know, you are Kaleb himself."  
  
"I am not here for the amethyst, Sarah. But, as far as being Kaleb goes, it all depends on your point of view."  
  
"You seem to have quite a muddled perspective on most things Jareth. I do not know your reason for coming here in the first place. It would seem to me that you would have been happier living on your quaint little farm."  
  
"Enough of that, Sarah," Sage demanded. "We need to know where you keep the amethyst so that Kaleb cannot retrieve it."  
  
Sarah turned to face the elf after downing her second glass of wine. "Why the hell does he know about the amethyst in the first place? Even if he does want it, it is of no use to him if he does not have the shard."  
  
"He has the shard, Sarah," Jareth replied ominously.  
  
Sarah stopped abruptly. "Wait a minute!" She turned to face Sage. "You told me that you had the shard! Why is it that Kaleb has it? He appears suddenly, as if out of nowhere, and he is destroying my kingdom! I do not have to tell you how destructive your dishonesty is going to be Sage, so I hope to God that you have a good explanation for all of this."  
  
Sage sighed and rolled his eyes. "I should have taken that wine away from you when I had the chance."  
  
"Dammit, Sage, you know very well that the wine has nothing to do with it! I am so far in the dark here that no little glimmer is going to help me find my way out! I need a damn huge spotlight to shed some light on this whole mess! Jareth here," she thrust her hand in his direction, "appears out of nowhere, after four years of leaving me in the cold, to fend for a kingdom with full responsibility, despite the fact that I was barely breaking adolescence. Not only does he play a fun little game to make himself known, but you are in on it, helping him all the way. Now I find out that the shard piece that I thought was safe with you in fact is not... But is in the hands of a man I only met this afternoon, who is wreaking havoc upon my city at the worst possible time! Hoggle's father is dying, the kitchen is on fire, and I am living proof that Bradbury was more prophetic than anyone ever would have dreamed! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be a little miffed!?"  
  
"She has a good point, Sage," Jareth commented with a raised brow. He seemed unaffected by Sarah's tirade; the only movement he made was to cross his arms. "I think we have a lot of explaining to do."  
  
"Good God, Jareth, I think that is the most intelligent thing you have said since I have known you." Sarah took a few more steps down the hall and entered her throne room. Placing the wine glass on a nearby table, she turned to look at Jareth and Sage, who, though weary-looking, were no less adamant in their gait. "Before another word is said, I think we should depart to more secure quarters. You can tell me everything that is going on there."  
  
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Let's make haste," Sage replied.  
  
As they approached the staircase, Sarah mumbled, "Can it get any worse?"  
  
Leah heard her comment, for she was descending the same staircase Sarah had begun to ascend. "Yes, it can," she replied with crossed arms. She was taken aback when Jareth's face became visible as he emerged from the throne room and began to take a few steps up the flight. "What the hell is he doing here!?" she cried.  
  
Jareth gazed upward and tightened his crossed arms. "The plot thickens," he mumbled in an irritated tone. It had taken him aback slightly to see someone so exactly alike Sarah in appearance (Lacking the charm, of course, he said to himself), but he had already learned of her shadow counterpart and quickly recovered.  
  
"I see you recognize Jareth," Sarah replied.  
  
"I told you Pandor," she paused to roll the false name around her mouth in distaste, "was going to be trouble."  
  
"Yes, well, there is no time for 'I told you so's'. What's happened?... Add it to the list."  
  
"Toby has run away from home. Mom and Dad have no clue where he is. He's been gone for six hours, now, and the neighborhood has gone to look for him. Not a sign of him anywhere. I already checked my house."  
  
Sarah was completely horrified. What little composure she had maintained left her, and she put her hand to her forehead in amazement. "My God, he could be anywhere... and I don't have the time or means to deal with it right now! Have you heard about what is going on around here yet?"  
  
"Let's see, I ran into Damion as he was rushing a doctor to Hoggle's room; past two gnomes brandishing a fork that they somehow had transformed into a torch, followed by a number of shrieking Fierys who were trying to put them into a cage; some drunken kittens singing about the joys of fermented milk; a couple of trash people fighting over claimed ownership of some piece of junk; and a lot of people screaming about a swarm of birds." She smirked sardonically and crossed her arms. "Could anything be the matter?"  
  
"It's getting worse by the minute, Leah."  
  
" I would guess that it's all his fault," she replied, pointing to Jareth and glowering at him.  
  
"Look, that doesn't matter right now," Sarah answered, shaking her head as if warding off a headache. "I can't help you find Toby, but, if you find Vindar and Isabelle, they might be able to help you. At least until I get all of this under control. God knows, he could be anywhere from Aboveground to Underground, Leah."  
  
"That's true. We will find him, nonetheless." She gave Sarah the sarcastic smile that she was so well-known for. "Good luck."  
  
"Yes, you too." She hugged her twin. "Let me know what happens."  
  
"I will."  
  
They went their separate ways and Sarah continued the journey to her study. A million thoughts rushed through her mind as she tried to make some sense of the goings-on: Why was Jareth really here? Where was Toby? Why did Kaleb have the shard? How was it that everything seemed to be falling apart all at once? Would Hoggle's father make it? A slight wooziness began to grip her, but she was certain it had nothing to do with the alcohol, for it felt nothing like drunkenness. She braced herself and choked it down; there would be no time to deal with it, until she got some control of the circumstances at hand. Once everything was back to normal, she would have ample time to consult a doctor.  
  
The trio's journey was a short, yet silent one. Upon reaching the study, Sarah closed the doors and invoked a spell to trap sound within the room; a light buzzing noise seemed to envelop the room. Jareth looked a little shocked at her ease of casting, as well as her skill; Sarah saw his amazement and her mouth pinched at the sides into a half-frown. She sat on the edge of her desk and said, "Okay, now, why does Kaleb have the shard? Why do you not have it, Sage? Did he take it from you somehow?"  
  
"I'm afraid it's not so simple. I never was in possession of the shard."  
  
"Who was in possession of it, then?" Sarah said, very obviously swallowing a bitter retort.  
  
"I thought, once I realized it had been cleft, that Jareth had taken it. However, I was uncertain."  
  
"And you did not inform me of your uncertainties?" Sarah said with slanting eyebrows.  
  
"Your opinion of him was already very shaky, Sarah, and I was just beginning to learn of all that was going on with him, myself; I did not want to cast any further distrust in his direction until I was certain."  
  
"And were you in possession of the shard?" she asked, turning her simmering eyes to Jareth.  
  
"No, I was not. I was not even aware that it had been shattered. I left, roamed aimlessly for a year, then found Granen. My life has been, for the most part, as Granen and I have told you."  
  
"Then who else was there at that time? Who could have taken it?"  
  
Sage took a seat in a plush chair that sat next to the doorway. "Jareth's shadow."  
  
"How could that be? I didn't see a duplicate copy of Jareth walking around..."  
  
"He was in my mind, inside of me. He was half of the person that was The Goblin King, the man you knew four years ago."  
  
Sarah blinked and gazed at him in disbelief. "How did your shadow get inside of you? The last I heard, shadows were separate entities entirely."  
  
"That is a long story, Sarah, for a more peaceful time."  
  
"Okay, so let's say I accept this shadow business... How does a formless shadow pick up a rock?"  
  
Sage spoke up. "He doesn't. Think back, Sarah. When Jareth caught you while you were standing on the plateau, just as you were about to fall... You dropped the shard immediately after, am I correct?"  
  
Images of the past flashed through her mind. She remembered the close fatality of that dusty height, when Jareth caught her and kept her from plummeting. Before her stumbling, she had cried, 'I don't love you! I want you out of my life forever!' to which Jareth had replied, 'But I love you!' He saved her life and held her soothingly... 'I have you,' he had comforted. 'I won't let you fall...'  
  
"Sarah?" Sage prompted. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, shaking away the nostalgia. She tried hard to ignore the saddened expression that took over Jareth's face at her drifting away, but she was not very successful. Doing her best to push it aside, she responded, "Yes, I dropped the shard immediately after."  
  
I did not want him out of my life, she admitted to herself, looking at him more fully, trying hard to regain the emotion, the overwhelming trust that had overtaken her those four years ago.  
  
"Well, you may not recall, but you had also been in possession of the crystals at the time. The crystals were the means of power that the shadow had been using to live within Jareth. When you took them with you, you were carrying the shadow as well. He stayed briefly within you, almost prompting you to go to the extreme you did to keep the amethyst away from Jareth."  
  
I was eager to get away, I remember, Sarah thought. I knew there was no true escape from him, knew it very well, but I could only think that I had to get further away...  
  
"He moved from you to the amethyst... You were no longer pure when you touched the amethyst, so you not only broke the spell on it by retrieving it from its hiding place, but had also unleashed its evil tendencies. It had been his plan all along, to use Jareth to get you, a woman of a pure heart, to take the journey required to retrieve the amethyst. Once you had retrieved it, he would use you, in one way or another, to help him unleash its evil powers."  
  
Yes, I felt strange, I knew something wasn't right. When the amethyst fell from my hand, I felt a tension breaking, like something leaving me...  
  
"When it fell, he could only use the power of the shard to transform himself. He must not have been very powerful, seeing that he had been suddenly transmitted to a fairly alien talisman. That is the only reason I can think of for which he did not take the entire amethyst. Besides, if he had taken the whole thing, you would have noticed sooner that the whole thing was missing and would have made an extensive search."  
  
It didn't seem quite right when I saw it again, after I climbed down the plateau to retrieve it. I had almost expected to find it gone, thanks to Jareth, but I remember being surprised to see it there. The amethyst didn't look exactly like a remembered it, but I had only looked at it for a few moments, so I dismissed the notion that it had changed in any way. I remember seeing the claws of some kind of bird embedded in the sand nearby, but had decided it was unimportant. I attributed it to Jareth in the form of the owl... I convinced myself that he had considered taking it, but had changed his mind. But no, they did not look like the tracks of an bird.  
  
"You may recall that it was nearly two years later before I approached you with the knowledge that I had another piece of the amethyst... I had only realized a piece of it was missing after a month had passed. However, I told you that I had kept it hidden for security reasons. Which was partly true. I did not want it to be revealed that there was a missing piece, for the knowledge, in the wrong hands, could have muddled this even further. It was at this time that I finally found Jareth, for he was in hiding. He was recovering from the split he and his shadow had made, but felt certain that his shadow had expired the moment he had lost his powers, which the other elves and I had taken by way of a spell we had cast while you were away at the plateau. He attributed his loss of powers and the shadow both to us -- after he had dug around a bit and learned of our actions. "  
  
He was acting very differently, like the time that I thought he was drunk, at the castle. He was very sincere, and I wanted to trust him... But I knew I could not.  
  
"He thought that his absence would heal the harm done, and he thought all of the danger had subsided, until I found him. I informed him of the lost shard, demanded that he return it. He told me that he did not have it, but, realizing that all was not well, also told me about the shadow."  
  
Jareth had not lied when he had admitted his love for me, I have always been certain. It's confused me time and again -- why would he leave after such a confession? Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps it was something else. "We both came to the conclusion that I have already told you about. The shadow made a physical form for himself and took the shard. Apparently his powers increased greatly over time, as well as his skills; he has become adept enough to take the form of Kaleb, and has managed to make himself into a king. Now that his power is at the highest peak it could possibly reach with the shard, he wants to get the rest of the amethyst so that he can complete his plans. WE need to know where it is, and find a new way to dispose of it. Perhaps even use it against him somehow."  
  
It is a good thing that I keep it so close. He will never find it in my bedchamber.  
  
Why do I feel so queer all of a sudden? The room is spinning...  
  
The wine. It was the wine. Oh please, not now...  
  
Sage took a breath from his long narrative. Sarah's eyes rolled up in their sockets as she passed out in reply.  
  
"Sarah!" Sage exclaimed, rushing to her side.  
  
Jareth was equally distraught. He kneeled beside her and felt for a pulse. "She has only fainted," he announced quietly.  
  
"What is it you humans say?" Sage said, narrowing his eyes. "When it rains, it rains cats and dogs, is that it?"  
  
"I think you are close enough," Jareth replied, shaking his head. "Come now, let's take her to her room. You might want to get someone to check the wine."  
  
"Yes, I should have taken it from her."  
  
"Well, look at it this way... She will be stress free for a little while, at least."  
  
Sage helped the man lift her and smiled despite the circumstances. "Only someone who loved her dearly would look at it in such a way."  
  
"Well, yes, I suppose so." 


	17. Chapter 16: Only a Dream

CHAPTER XVI: Only a Dream  
  
One toe, then a whole foot, then another touched the concrete of an alley off Broadway. Soon enough, two claws gripped the edge of a nearby windowsill, their owner whistling in amazement at the surroundings. The companions walked from the shadows of their landing site to make a further ground exploration of what they had viewed from above.  
  
"Geeze, would ya look at all those lights!" Rattlebeak exclaimed. "What kind of magic can do this?"  
  
Toby bit his lip in awe, but was still able to mumble a reply. "Er, just a different sort, that's all. It's called electricity. Scientists create this stuff."  
  
"Well, I gotta say that these scientists can make a better light show than when Hoggle gets together all the paper lanterns that the light guild can make in two seasons! Electricity is a curious magic..." The bird perched atop the boy's shoulder. It was not long before people were passing them by, giving them odd stares.  
  
"Heya, Rattlebeak..." Toby mumbled.  
  
"Huh?" The question brought the abrupt attention of a passer-by who seemed to consider the possibility of the bird's speech, and soon discounted it.  
  
"You might not want to speak so loud," he continued in a whisper. "Birds don't talk on our world. Unless you're a parrot, and you don't look at all like a parrot."  
  
"What do, uh -- parrots -- talk about?"  
  
"Just crackers. They always want to eat crackers." Toby shrugged his shoulders. "They're green, mostly." Toby began to walk aimlessly, looking around in amazement. Few seemed to find it strange to see a young boy walking down Broadway, talking to himself and the little red bird on his shoulder. The bird looked around as well, shivering at a thought. He quietly murmered to himself, "Hmph. Green. Terrible color for a bird. Can't stand green birds."  
  
"Whatcha got against green birds?" Toby asked, digging around in his pockets.  
  
"Talk too much."  
  
The boy chuckled. "I thought only red birds talked too much."  
  
The bird's response was curt. "Hmph."  
  
The boy switched his search from his jacket pockets to his blue jeans. "C'mon, gotta be somethin' here..."  
  
"Whatcha lookin' for?" Rattlebeak queried.  
  
"I'm lookin' for money. The one thing you can't make with magic. That's something Sarah used to tell me... and I think she's right, because I'm really wishing for some right now, and I don't have a bit."  
  
"What do ya need money for?"  
  
"Food. I'm starvin'."  
  
"Now that you mention it, I'm a little hungry myself. What kind of food can we get in New Yak?"  
  
Toby chuckled. "Keep it up, and you'll really sound like you're from here. It's New York, Rattlebeak."  
  
"Whatever. So, how are we gonna get some grub?"  
  
Toby looked around a bit. "Hmm, I don't know. I guess I could wish something... but I don't want to do it in front of all these people. Besides, anything that could fit in my pocket probably wouldn't do me any good. I need abig pizza, or something. How about we look around for a place to sit down...? Maybe while we're looking we can figure out where Sarah... er, her shadow, or whoever ... is at right now."  
  
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Rattlebeak replied. "Where are you gonna start?"  
  
"I don't know, but I hope a solution comes along soon."  
  
Rattlebeak pointed a wing toward the jeweled curtains behind the window of a shop. "How about that?" A sign behind the glass read, "Find your answers here... Ask Madame Marlena to reveal your path. Other worldy powers show the underground road of your existence." Toby gave the bird a sidelong glance. "I think I can get used to this wish stuff."  
  
* * *  
  
A hazy, lazy light fell across the room from a few candles dispersed in random places. Flowery perfumes scented the air, probably due to the number of bottled fragrances that lie in neat rows on the bureau. Voices and screams echoed from without the room, as chaos reigned throughout the castle. Somehow, within Sarah's bedchamber, all of these worries seemed trivial and emasculated. Peace took its grip in the silence that echoed through the room, in the sweet expression of sleep that rested on her face as it glowed in the flickering candlelight. Nearby Jareth sat, his cushioned chair sitting inches from her bed, his chin resting on his fist as he gazed quietly at her. Sage was tending to matters within the castle, leaving Jareth with the much longed-for respite that involved staring at the woman he had so long loved and so long missed. It was the first peace that they had shared since the beginning of this escapade, though she was unconscious for the event. It was a problem he was debating on solving or not. He knew the means, but couldn't calculate their rightness.  
  
A handmade piece of paper lay in his lap, its edges possessing the worn nature characteristic of self-designed parchment. Next to him sat a little wooden box filled with blocks of colored pastels and charcoal. He lifted his left hand and gazed at it, rubbing the fingers together, thus smudging the brightly colored chalk that decorated them into a murky brown. With a gentle glance he looked into the box, fingering each piece of chalk, rummaging through them to find a certain hue. He successfully found a vivid green, only indicated as such by the few areas where the outer surface had chipped away -- the close contact of the other pieces had muddied its exterior with sundry colors. He carefully wiped away the mud onto the fabric of his fine trousers, unconcerned for the state of his clothing. It left a brownish mark where he wiped, but had successfully burnished the piece of chalk to its true glowing nature. With it he began to draw in a furious, emotional stroke that simultaneously cut and caressed the paper. A dress emerged; Sarah's dress, but quite contrary to the true color that it possessed. Hints of green made themselves evident in the surroundings of this rendered queen, and it became apparent that she was sleeping in a forest. Again he rummaged through the box of colored blocks, emerging with alight brown tone. It wasn't long before her face appeared, almost as if she had been hiding within the dress, and was crawling out to see her new world, like a turtle in a sacred shell, moved from place to place by the outside force of a human being. Trunks and roots surrounded her on all sides, reflected in the water of a nearby lake. Growing, loving, the environment was birthed by the brandished tools of the artist's possessed hand and mind. Jareth was consumed in his paper worship, his pupils wide and mesmerized as his hand seemed to draw of its own accord. As the ritual seemed to approach its conclusion, a decision seemed to have been made. The hand moved slower, the eyes grew deeper, and the sleeping angel emerged as a new world emerged on all sides. Pinks and blues of a queen's bedchamber transcended and merged into a green, until the green overpowered and pillows had become tree roots, blue carpet was green grass, and the mirror of the bureau a rippling, blue-green lake. Jareth sat, spent, on a large, half-submerged tree root across from the sleeping queen. The only magic Jareth possessed from his fall of four years ago was one that came only from his deepest passions and long-practiced skill. It could create the illusion of different places, and could awake the sleeper from within.  
  
"Jareth?" Sarah stretched her arms, yawning luxuriously. She sat up on the root and leaned against the trunk of the tree that claimed its nether depths. Her bright green dress flowed all around her. "What are you doing here?" Looking around like an enchanted child, Sarah smiled tranquilly. "Hmm, this is the place I like to dream best. It's funny how I always come here to dream. It's a little like a place I had been some time back... I guess it has some significance, but I just think it's beautiful in its own right. What do you think of this place? I don't think I have ever dreamed of you here before."  
  
"It is very lovely, Sarah," Jareth answered as he gazed at her intensely, but half-smiling under the surface.  
  
"Yes, it is. Hmm, I wonder why this is the first time I have dreamed you here? I guess it doesn't matter. I can show you, now." Like a lively child, she jumped from her seated position and grabbed Jareth's hand.  
  
She walked with him through the forest, dreamy-eyed and gazing all about. The clearing ran alongside a small lake, where a tiny inlet of mountain curved gracefully at the edges, releasing a gentle waterfall into the lake, where it flowed out into a river that seemed, due to the distortions of this imaginary world, to flow straight back to Sunset City.  
  
In the distance, Sunset City morphed back and forth into the Goblin City, the sky at once brooding and bright. Magicmockers filled the trees, singing gracefully and paving the way for good fortune. All that went on was immediately reminiscent of Sarah's long ago journey through the Underground where she sought out the amethyst for the long ago Jareth. Trees would sway to and fro to reveal fieries dancing in the distance, the beast men were in another nook, playing with their children, and someone was coming to Hoggle's father, The Bookkeeper, to gain some form of wisdom. It seemed as if Sarah actually longed for the old days of adventure, to find a place of lesser responsibility, and to explore once again like a boundless child.  
  
"I know what this place is, now," Sarah said suddenly, gazing up at Jareth with smiling eyes. She held both of his hands before her and spun to face him. "This is where the Magicmockers helped me to get Hoggle and the others out of the dungeon. And this is also where I met the elves, and Sage."  
  
Jareth became downcast. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry for all of the heartache I caused you, Sarah."  
  
"What for?" Sarah exclaimed. "We had a grand time! I danced with Vindar, and saw Didymus in rare form..." Her eyes drifted off into the distance, and soon she was giggling hysterically and running away, clutching her dress between her fingertips.  
  
"Sarah, wait!" Jareth ran after her, trying his best to catch up with her in the forest. She was a sparkling nymph in his eyes at that moment, the pure essence of all that was joy and wonder. The darkness that had always crept at the edges of his demeanor like a stubborn rust at the place where screw and metal meet, this darkness fell away under the sunshine of the child within the woman. Soon he found himself laughing as she did, and, since he knew this was a dream and that she did not, he slipped behind one tree far behind her, and came out magically from another directly before her. He caught her between his arms, and they laughed like little imps escaping the cries of the governess to come home.  
  
Soon their laughter was calmed by a deeper emotion that grew strong with their fixed gaze.  
  
"Oh Sarah, how lovely you are. If only I could make you see my intentions, if only we could be as such in wakefulness..."  
  
She put up a finger to silence him. "Though I may forget this is a dream when I wake, I forgive you here and now."  
  
He was startled. "Do you mean that you know that you are dreaming?"  
  
"Yes... Ever since you left and I began to learn magic, I have found myself dreaming lucidly more and more as time passes. It's not completely under my control... You always do what you will within the dream."  
  
"What do I do in your other dreams?"  
  
"That doesn't matter. I feel this dream is shortly over... And then I will be alone."  
  
"No you won't, Sarah. I will always be with you." Jareth's eyes were ablaze in fiery green hues.  
  
"I know you are not there in the real world, Jareth... Nor will I remember this dream. But I will remember a kiss."  
  
He wanted to protest, to make her realize that he was there in reality, sitting beside her bed and willing to do whatever she would ask. Instead, he brushed her hair aside and looked into those brown eyes that had kept him awake and raving in a deep sweat that came from longing many a night. Her lightly pink cheeks flushed with emotion, full lips asking only to be kissed...  
  
Emotion was so real and tangible that the kiss was a barely sufficient accent. Their lips came together, passionate and full of motion, their arms clasped about one another as if the world could not provide foundation. He gripped her hair gently but firmly between his fingers, every sensation wild in his body with only the kind of feeling that something other than reality could possess him with. She stood on her toes, her fingers pressed deeply into his neck, caressing and kneading his skin, finding corporal expression of the ephemeral. The trees rocked and swayed toward them, bending inward as if their joining was stretching the world in toward them, where it would be sucked up into a black hole.  
  
And then it stretched in the opposite direction. The noise of a shrieking mountain came from the distance; they parted, barely able to pull their gaze away from each other in order to look in the direction of the sound. The rumbling increased, and it was suddenly obvious that a great earthquake had begun, rending the ground beneath them in two.  
  
"Sarah! What is happening?" Jareth shouted above the din.  
  
A new look took Sarah over, and she seemed resigned, a slave. "The dream is coming to an end, my love." Her balance thrown awry, she attempted to gain stability by leaning against a tree. She was weak and fragile.  
  
"Whatever it is, you can stop it, Sarah! This is your dream!" Jareth stepped along the edge of the break, trying to find a place to jump across. He even tried to will his way to the other side, but nothing would work. There was a strange resistance in the air.  
  
"Goodbye... I think I am going away..."  
  
The other half of the world disappeared, taking Sarah with it. Jareth was left staring into a white, windfilled void, empty of everything but fluttering leaves, suddenly dead.  
  
It did not take Jareth long to realize what had happened.  
  
* * *  
  
The crow cawed, pleased at his handiwork. He flew out of the doorway with the amethyst shard in his claws, his beating wings causing a breeze that beckoned the candle flames to look in his direction. Behind him he left an empty hole in the wall, a vacated bed, and one half of a drawing, depicting Jareth, sullen and without hope. 


	18. Chapter 17: For the Birds

CHAPTER XVII: For the Birds  
  
Sage mumbled a few words, and Jareth returned to reality. Stumbling a bit from the switchover, he steadied himself on the shorter elf.  
  
"I-I couldn't stop it. I tried a spell, but-"  
  
Sage laid a hand upon his shoulder. "Yes, I know, I am sure I know what happened. Do not worry, Jareth, we'll find a way."  
  
"He has her. I can only begin to guess what he will do with her." He glanced to the hole in the wall. "Clever girl. But he has it. He must have found where she hid the shard." Jareth grabbed his jacket and started out of the room.  
  
Sage blocked him. "No, don't go."  
  
"I must find her, Sage... Somehow."  
  
"You can't rush off to her rescue without a plan. Besides... the majority of the elfin kingdom is surrounding the city."  
  
"What are they doing at a time like this?"  
  
"Why, declaring war, my good chap. It seems that Eberon is as untrustworthy as I suspected."  
  
"How did they get past the Labyrinth walls?"  
  
"The Spangores flew them in, of course."  
  
Jareth smirked, without humor. "Oh, of course. Has everyone gone mad?"  
  
"Yes." Sage smiled as if the announcement meant no more than a "howdy do." The doors flew open, and a group of elves entered, Eberon in the lead. He looked as pleased as a cat with it's paw on the rat's tail, yet twice as fidgety.  
  
Sage turned to face them calmly. "Oh, hello, we were expecting you."  
  
"A sharp wit until the end, eh?" Eberon prodded, poking him a bit with his sword.  
  
"This is hardly the end, fellow, but, yes, my wit is always keen."  
  
Jareth chimed in. "It keeps us sane when having to put up with the shenanigans of chaps like yourself."  
  
"Enough prattle. Take them to the dungeons."  
  
Sage held back the birdlike creatures who were in Eberon's entourage, and addressed the slender king. "Wait. I must know... why have we not been affected by the birds? The crows... do they not bring about madness?" Eberon chuckled maliciously. "You think that mere birds could bring about madness?" he replied in a taunting fashion. "What an idea. How clever an idea that would be. To make mere crows capable of spreading angst. Not an idea worthy of an elfin king who relies upon others for his genius, now would it be?"  
  
"I never said that you were not clever, Eberon," Sage said while snubbing his nose at the creatures who began to bind his wrists. "Just mad."  
  
Eberon's face resembled a heating thermometer, and was surely going to burst. "If only I could allow the birds to enter the castle... Then you would truly know what madness is." His face regained it's olive color quickly when it became obvious to him that he was the one in control of the circumstances, despite Sage's upper hand in the conversation. "It is no matter. You will not feel so sharp whiling away your time in a dank dungeon."  
  
* * *  
  
A group of Beasts were blockading the door, doing their best to keep the elvin guards from breaking into the grand conference chamber. Through the ruckus, the leaders of the seven kingdoms were trying their best to have a discussion. The seven kingdoms, minus one.  
  
"That bastard!" Benedick shouted while raking a set of razor-sharp claws against the mahogany table, leaving a vicious mark. "I'd swear that all elves were up to no good, were it not for Sage!"  
  
Leenia, the fairie queen touched the feline's hand gently and replied, "Now, now Benedick, a wicked ruler does not make for a wicked populace."  
  
"Little men strong!" one beast shouted from his barricade position.  
  
Delina hopped onto the table. "Look, we have to come up with a plan, and very quickly. Has anyone tried to make communications outside of the castle?"  
  
Everyone shook their head, "no."  
  
"Well I have," Delina answered, shaking the communications amulet that hung around her neck, "and all communication has been blocked. There is no way for us to summon our armies."  
  
All heads dropped as if hope for resolving the madness had been lost.  
  
* * *  
  
Jareth bent over as much as his restraints would allow to whisper into Sage's ear. "We cannot allow them to take us to the dungeons."  
  
Sage gave him a sideways grin. "Who said that we were?"  
  
The elf tried not to use his magic on a regular basis. His great respect for the land and the powers it provided caused him to take careful stock of how he used those powers. Sarah knew that Sage had knowledge of magic and its use, for he taught her the ways of the sorceress, including the respect she should possess for the magic she used. Jareth also was aware of Sage's knowledge, as was everyone else in the palace. This often led to the idea that Sage was truly powerless, except in the strength of his cunning. As his cunning could not help him to escape his current predicament, it was time to put the old spells to use. The good thing is that Eberon would not expect it, for, after all of the years he had known the lad, the boy still thought he was a helpless old codger with a quick tongue. The bad thing was that the mock king would now know of his powers, and try to protect himself against them. So, cunning as Sage was, he had a way to get around this little problem.  
  
He casted, first, a ventriloquism spell.  
  
Suddenly, involuntarily, Jareth muttered the incomprehensible words of an elfin spell. He seemed shocked, but did not resist. He recognized the spell that came from his mouth by the promptings of Sage. Though he could understand the words, he did not need to - for he could tell exactly what the elf was up to by watching the results.  
  
A little creature with two buoyant legs hopped out of nothingness to stand before Jareth. He found the fellow charming with his drooping eyes and tendril-like mustache. It was like a puppy waiting to do a trick.  
  
"Capture them," he commanded, motioning toward the guards and the elfin king with his head.  
  
The little guy hopped up and down gleefully at his new task, and was suddenly only a blur as he bounced his almost spherical body around the room in a highly calculated ricochet. Elastic goo trailed behind him and smacked, whopped, and generally subdued the guards holding Jareth and Sage before wrapping around the lot of them, leaving them dangling one by one from springy ropes that stuck to the ceiling. Upon completion of his work, the creature stopped before Jareth, and slapped his rubbery tongue around his face in a fashion that mimicked panting. Jareth bent over and pat him on his head.  
  
"Good boy. What a fine job!"  
  
Eberon glowed red behind strings of goo. Only half of his face was visible, but he was clearly unhappy. "How in the Underground did you do that? Kaleb told me that you were--"  
  
He stopped, but not fast enough. Sage stepped in front of him and toyed with a string of rubber hanging next to his face. It snapped and hit Eberon across his half-visible, slender, sneaky nose. "Aha, so King Kaleb is this cause of all of our stress, after all? Now, I knew you couldn't pull all of this off yourself."  
  
"Curse you, Sage! I'd curse your family, too, but you don't have much of one, anymore, now do you?"  
  
A darkness mostly unfamiliar to Sage took over his face. "I would not mention such things, Eberon, for they will only serve to heat me to a pitch, something you are not in a position to do right now."  
  
He lowered his eyes for a moment, and then turned to Jareth, who in turn looked down to the little creature and said, "Well, my friend, your work is done, you can go back to wherever you came from, now."  
  
The fellow wiggled his two legs around in a motion that made him look as if he were shaking his head, and he let out a couple of argumentative squeaks.  
  
"He's a Windle Sprite, Jareth. Comes directly from the fairy lands, just below the Underground. It's not everyday that someone is lucky enough to befriend one of these fellows."  
  
"So, you are telling me that I can keep him?" Jareth asked with a raising of his brow.  
  
"Indeed, I am saying that you should. As you can see, these little fellows come in handy."  
  
The sprite hopped into Jareth's arms, weighing no more than a pound or two. He licked Jareth across the face, leaving behind a sticky goo that quickly hardened. Jareth pulled it off easily and turned to Sage. "Awe, thanks Dad."  
  
They peered around the doorway, and did not find anyone within the immediate distance, so they snuck out, peering around corners and making their way stealthily to the conference room. They left behind a furious elf, wiggling with all of his might to escape, but only succeeding in spinning himself about, unwinding, and finally slowing down, googly-eyed from dizziness.  
  
"That was very clever of you," Jareth whispered as they snuck past one panicked castle dweller after another.  
  
"What, you mean my use of the ventriloquism spell? Yes, it did, in a sense, kill two birds with one stone. Not only are they still unaware of my powers, but they think that you still are able to cast spells. I am sure it will throw all of their perceptions in a tizzy."  
  
"Yes, maybe they will think we have more of an advantage than we actually do." The little windle hopped behind them quietly, dutifully keeping an eye out for enemies. "They will pay more attention to me, and not as much on you. Maybe you can infiltrate their defenses somehow."  
  
Sage pulled a bubble-like monacle from his vest and peered around the corner. "Yes, all of these things we can consider in a future plan." He looked back over his shoulder at the sprite. "What are you going to name him?"  
  
"Do you think that is really something I should be considering at this moment?" Jareth almost chuckled at Sage's ability to mix dire business with trifling matters. It was not annoying at all, but served to lighten his heavy mood.  
  
"Certainly. It is an important thing to consider, as you must have a name by which to prompt him into battle."  
  
"Very logical." Jareth pondered it a moment. "Well, I think it would be fitting to call him Chaos, considering the circumstances under which you called him, and the nature of his abilities."  
  
"Chaos it is, then." Sage pat Chaos on the head before peering around the edge again. Through the monacle, he saw a close-up view of the distant conference room where a multitude of very angry elves were congregating in an effort to break in.  
  
Turning back to Jareth, Sage said, "I think we have found another use for our new friend." He looked down to Jareth's new faithful companion and said, "Do you have any new tricks up your sleeve, fella?" Though very much like a small dog, Chaos was obviously intelligent. The little windle peered around the corner to consider the situation. Twice, the group of elves backed far away from the door to ram it. They were increasingly successful in loosening the hinges with each heave. On the third go, little Chaos zoomed from his position, ran in circles around the retreating elves five times (it took him less than two seconds to do this), and ran back to his masters. The elves did not have a chance to move; their feet were successfully encased in a goo that had already hardened into a rubber substance. Jareth took stock of the situation, and noted that the little guy had even gone to the extra effort (magically) of wrapping up the elves holding weapons in such a way that they could not move.  
  
"Very thorough!" Sage shouted gleefully, going to no extra effort to keep his voice down as he walked boldly from his hiding place. Jareth and Chaos were in his wake. "I should say that we have clearance to enter?"  
  
Sage stepped up to the cleared door and heard Dalina announce that there was no ways to summon the armies.  
  
"We will have to get outside somehow," she continued.  
  
Everyone looked toward the door, confused by the fact that there was suddenly no more pounding, only the murmurs of elves outside.  
  
Sage pulled out a key from his vest, turned it in the lock, and entered like an epiphany.  
  
"No, you don't want to go outside, my friends! You are sure to go mad out there!" He held the key aloft to show how he entered, then put the key and monacle away in his vest.  
  
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief to realize that their new guest was more than a welcome one.  
  
Benedick hollered above the sudden din. "You old coot! Always got a trick in that vest of yours, eh? Got one that can get us out of here?"  
  
Jareth entered and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he discovered that everyone had become silent and was staring open-jawed at him. Everyone except for the fairy queen, who was regal no matter the circumstances.  
  
Sage left response up to the former Goblin King. For the umpteenth time that day, Jareth felt extremely awkward for being who he was. To calm their nerves, he did something very uncharacteristic.  
  
He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in a dainty wave. "Hi there."  
  
Everyone gasped. The king of the fieries lost his head. Literally. It bounced to the front of the room, fluttered its ears and hovered in front of his face a moment. "It's him alright!" His body came back to his head, and he raised a hand to tug at Jareth's ears, which prompted a meager swat from him.  
  
"Stop that! It hurts."  
  
"Not gonna cast some boogey woogie spell on me, man?" The fiery taunted as he pulled Jareth's goatee.  
  
"No, I'm not, but would you mind boogie woogying your way elsewhere?"  
  
The fiery gave up and walked back to his seat. "I don't believe it, man. Like, is he for real?"  
  
Sage started to explain it, but Jareth interposed. "No, no, let me do it." While Sage locked the door again, Jareth began to explain the circumstances. "Yes, it is I, Jareth, the former Goblin King. Thanks to a spell the elves - your former allies - cast on me four years ago, I was cleansed of my evil ways. I left the kingdom for Sarah to rule, as I was never fit to rule in the first place. Thanks to Sage, I became aware of the dangers of the crows and of the man who caused their existence -- King Kaleb, my shadow. I agreed to help Sage to destroy him, and here I am, a little too late. Yes, my intentions are good, as Sage will vouch for me. No, I am not the same man who ruled four years ago. Most importantly, Sarah, Queen of Sunset City, has been kidnapped by Kaleb and must be rescued before we can launch a successful battle against Kaleb."  
  
"Oh my!" Delina exclaimed. "What will we do without her counsel?"  
  
Benedick stood up forcefully. "More important than that... what will he do with her?"  
  
"My sentiments exactly," Jareth replied.  
  
The gauzy haze that surrounded Leenia pulsated as she spoke. "Sage... You said earlier that we would go mad if we went outside. Are the crows there?"  
  
"Yes." The elf's stance became firm, as a military leader preparing for battle, and his voice hard-edged, like a finely crafted elfin sword. Approaching the table, he brought forth an image of the goings-on inside. "We learned from Eberon that the crows can only affect those that they come in contact with. I do believe that he will refrain from sending the crows into the castle, or any castle for that matter, for he, or one of his minions, will end up occupying the castle at some point, as he is here, and must therefore be protected from their magic. I'm certain that he and Kaleb have already seen to it that the other kingdoms are similarly occupied by these magical crows. As communications are cut off from within the castle, and it is likely that all of your armies have turned mad, I do not see the purpose in going outside to make contact with them.  
  
"Surely there are some who were wise enough to stay indoors and are unaffected by the birds?" Delina offered.  
  
"That is true. But they would be too few in number to pose a battle against Kaleb. And how would we get to them?"  
  
Stroking his whiskers, Benedick responded, "Sage and I are quite familiar with battle, be it a battle of wills, brawn, or wit. I do believe that we must approach this as a battle of wills and wit, as we are completely devoid of brawn. We should not attempt battle against Kaleb, because we will only succeed in killing the elves, who are obviously out of their gourds. What we have to do is destroy the crows, or to disable the spell. But how do you uncast a spell on thousands of birds? And, more than that, how do we get to them without being affected."  
  
Sage lit up. "Aha! I have an idea! But, the key is for each of you to be able to get in touch with the so-called 'survivors' of your kingdoms and to take a journey upon each of yourselves. I can't think of any spells I could cast to keep the crows away."  
  
The beast king spoke resolutely. "Wind... friend!"  
  
"What a genius of a notion!" Benedick exclaimed. "If the wind traveled with us, we could blow the buggers away! Goodbye birdies!" Benedick mimicked their demise with a swoop of his hand.  
  
"Which would mean we would have to travel in a cluster," Sage added. " Then split off at our respective kingdoms." He paced back and forth pondering it a bit more. "And, I have another plan... One that will allow us to recapture Sarah. But I will need to speak to Leah. She can help, assuming that she has not gone mad with the others."  
  
"How in blazes are we going to get out of here without attracting attention?" Benedick asked.  
  
Suddenly, a wall moved on the east side of the room, sending the shocked entourage of Benedick running to the other side. Once fully revolved, Sir Didymus, Hoggle, Leah, and Ambrosius could be seen. "I am here to rescue you good kings and queens of the Underground. Sir Didymus at your service." The fox bowed gracefully, removing his hat in the proper decorum.  
  
"What an able fellow," Jareth commented quietly.  
  
Sage was all smiles. "Sir Didymus, how kind of you! Even a secret passage that I was unaware of, dear fellow! You have always proven to be the pride of your queen!"  
  
"Thank you, dear sir. I await your orders."  
  
"So, Sage, are you going to tell us the central theme of your plan," Benedick said, "or shall we wait until another horde of elves come banging at out door?"  
  
"Yes, I most certainly will," Sage replied. "The central theme of my plan is...  
  
"Corn." 


	19. Chapter 18: Mind Games

CHAPTER XVIII: Mind Games  
  
There was a time in New York where Sarah realized something about herself. It was one of those epiphanies that come on you slow and hard, and have a funny way of changing your life, making you cry, or making you run away from yourself. It had not been long since she started the road to her career; there was a seduction to the city that she could not ignore. It called her into some dark places, some places filled with flashing lights and sweaty bodies, places unfamiliar to her small hometown. It was a world where a true actress found her spotlight, where seduction was the name of the game, and you had to know how to flaunt it.  
  
Many an "acting opportunity" had not panned out; in truth, she had made many a wrong turn in her search, finding lots of perverse men waiting behind yet another door, telling her that she would have to remove her clothing to be successful. Some of them had beer bellies and smoked cheap cigarettes; still others wore their hair slicked back, polyester shirts sparkling under the dim lights. They all made her sick to her stomache, but she kept looking anyways, looking always, it seemed, in the wrong places. She never told her parents about these incidents.  
  
It was one Saturday evening after she had gotten off work, leaving yet another long shift at the diner where she waited tables, that she went to pursue another of these opportunities. She took public transit, changing from bus to bus, until she found her destination. When she got out, she stood before quite a regal apartment building, white stucco climbing the sky, with accents of gold trim. It looked promising. She walked up three flights of stairs with a newfound hope. Maybe this one would be different.  
  
When the door opened, a beautiful man opened the door. He looked positively evil, but left Sarah entranced. He asked her in, his black hair fluttering about his face like feathers whenever the fan blew in his direction. As he escorted her into the room, he took her jacket and apologized for the heat... The Laundromat was a floor above, and the heat was filtering through; unfortunately, his air conditioner had picked the worst time to break, leaving him and his guests to suffer. She smiled and made a witty comment, feeling quite sexual under his gaze, and eerily powerful in that sexuality.  
  
What was it that made him so beautiful and evil at the same time? She wasn't quite sure. She had at that time almost convinced herself that the whole episode with Jareth had been some sort of figment of her youthful imagination at that time. But, as far as she could see back, to past relationships, to her fascination with fictional characters, and especially her fascination with Jareth, she knew she was obsessed with dark men. There was an air of adventure in the infatuation, a worldliness that implied to her that there could be a great deal she could learn about herself and the world at their hands. The suffering, though she knew it was a factor, rarely came into the equation.  
  
Why would a reputable talent scout invite potentials into his home? It was a fact she ignored time and again, and this time, a fact that she forced out of her mind entirely. The detail was a trifling one, a detail that would cost her an adventure, she was sure.  
  
He chatted her up for sometime, didn't get straight to business. She was utterly charmed. Spiced cider, candles (she noticed after some time), and even some lazy music. Surely it wasn't a ploy, she assured herself. Everything was black, much black satin, smooth, black leather sofas. Oriental tapestries hung from the wall, as well as a silver, Japanese fan that filled the wall. It all made Sarah want to don the white facial makeup of a Kabuki dancer, to finesse him with a rice paper fan and the subtle, calculated motions of a Geisha.  
  
These feelings, of course, were not unfamiliar to her. She had a vivid imagination, and had always imagined such a man that would make her feel this way. Someone like Jareth, yet unlike him in one crucial aspect... Someone who was real and attainable, and put to danger only those things which she possessed and could risk.  
  
He didn't lead to the point directly. Smoothly her relayed to her the knowledge of his profession. A high class clientele with a taste for the sensual, is that how he put it? But he said it so sweetly. She removed her shirt for the first time, despite the nagging voice. She bared her breasts in the hope that this would be her big break. Kal - that was his name - was too nice a man to hurt her. Oh, but wasn't he evil a moment ago? That didn't matter.  
  
And he photographed her, considering her carefully, respectful in his regard for her. He didn't say anything. And, after a few minutes of regarding her nude form, he did the most evil thing possible.  
  
"I'm sorry, dear Sarah. You are a lovely woman, but you are not quite what we are looking for. You are, well, frankly, you are not sensual enough."  
  
She was shocked. What did that mean, she wondered? Did she look too young? Was she not lovely enough? Her breasts too small, or her expression too nieve? He looked at her in a funny way, sort of knowingly, but of what he knew, she wasn't sure. He helped her don her shirt again, talked to her a few more moments, asked if she would be ok, and let her out. He knew what he had done, but she was not sure for many years to come. He had baited her, hook line and sinker.  
  
He wasn't just trying to find girls who would strip for the camera. This was a man with a personal mission, one that was much like the job of a sculptor, to make works of art for his own personal enjoyment. Sarah went home and cried that day. He knew she did. She showered for a full day, had dinner, then took another bath. Something had made her feel dirty; she looked in the mirror, suddenly uncomfortable with the body she had so long never given a second thought to. For days after that she tried to block the whole thing out of her mind; people noticed, though, when she started wearing a t-shirt and jeans all the time, or when she refused to go to parties. But that phase didn't last long.  
  
One Friday, Sarah had been home the entire day, staring in the mirror and talking to herself, like she used to do in high school, when make believe had been so much easier to engage in. "It's going to be different from now on," she said to her mirror image in a regal tone. "From now on I will be what men want to see. I can be sensual."  
  
How did he know she would be at this particular party? Maybe he fully understood in great detail the timeline that usually ensued after his first act, and that party invitation... He could have dropped it anywhere. Kal was there. He wasn't too far in the back of the coffee shop, sitting with a glass of some alcoholic beverage, his eyes on her knowingly, slanted mischieviously, the line of sight a sort if parabolic journey that fell on her like a bombshell from a great height.  
  
The veritable Cinderella of the ball, she entered; yet something was wrong, something horribly askew in the realization of this ballroom dream. Unlike the ballroom she had entered years ago in Jareth's dream domain, she was no longer entering as the innocent woman, wearing white, the youthful and nieve beauty in a room of harlots. Many of the other women her age were semi-conservatively dressed at this party; Sarah was the closest to the harlot out of all of them. Boy oh boy, did she look good. Every man's gaze fell on her at some point or another. But Kal was looking at her the entire time. He took in the long legs that protruded from the short skirt, carefully considered her soft ankles, made love to her every body part with his eyes. She pretended not to notice. Her acting skills were quite amazing; instead of following her initial urge to pull her arms tight around her chest to hide the low neckline, she let them down at her side, and swished to the other side of the room, taking on a catlike gaze that made her seem in control. She wasn't, but she had fooled even herself into thinking that she was.  
  
She chatted people up, held the regard of the men with a seductiveness that only Michelle Pfeifer could equal. She was the center of attention, even if she was only followed by a few people at a time. And, because of this, she expected him to finally come and speak with her, to make a comment on her change. Instead, she looked across the room to find him still staring at her, a cigarette swirling smoke above his head. He met her gaze, which he held for sometime, carefully finishing the cigarette, putting it out, then walking out. She wanted to follow him, but that would be giving him exactly what he wanted. She held back and stayed inside, drinking a little more than her usual, and getting a bit tipsy.  
  
Then something quite unexpected happened. She met Grayson, a tall, handsome fellow with long blonde hair and a funny little British accent. He danced with her, and seemed to regard her for herself, to see past the appearances that this scared little girl had put on. When they talked, she felt that she was wearing the white cotton dress of a maiden, not the trappings of a harlot. As if he saw deep inside of her, saw that she had only taken the garb of a worldly woman to make sure that no one trifled with her. She felt like herself around him, and soon forgot about Kal.  
  
They sat and talked for an hour. Sometimes he would look off into the distance, as if he were observing the actions of some fairy companion across the room, flipping his hair over his shoulder with the turn of his head. Then he would laugh at some shenanigan of his invisible friends, and turn to face her again, an angelic smile playing on his lips. He was most charming at these moments, and made Sarah's stomach fall low inside of her, making her certain that she must be in love. She would ask him what he was laughing about, and he would always tell her, "It's nothing."  
  
Soon enough, she had lost her catlike walk and gaze, her lipstick licked off completely in her nervousness over the presence of this lovely man. She finally felt like things were back to normal, like she would go home and undress comfortably again, wake in the morning with a warm and fuzzy feeling, call Grayson and have coffee somewhere in the city. Maybe they would go to a movie, and he would kiss her goodnight on her doorstep. It could be the beginning of a sweet romance.  
  
She had a half hour at least before she had to go home. At one lull point in conversation, Grayson turned back to her smiling after some musing, grabbed her hand, and walked her outdoors in order to get away from the noise.  
  
It was a little dark inside, but it still took Sarah's eyes a few minutes to adjust. She could faintly hear people scattered all about outside, some making drunken shouts about something or other, others chatting in twos in dark corners. To her immediate left she could see cigarette smoke as the blacklight from the doorway reflected off of it. In the corner her eyes began to perceive the shape of a man dressed in black.  
  
Oh right, Kal. He was still here. She had completely forgotten. And he was watching her.  
  
It should have given her the creeps, made her instinctually ask this nice young man to drive her home. Maybe she should have thought of the police. What was she going to do if he started stalking her? But none of these things crossed her mind. She resumed her catlike walk, eager to prove herself. She looked up at Grayson with different eyes, almost became another person entirely. She pretended like Kal was not there. But in her heart, he was suddenly omnipresent.  
  
Grayson asked if he could drive her home. He was a gentleman in his tone, and Sarah knew he had no intentions for her, not yet. He wanted to get to know her, as a gentleman would. But she had intentions. She knew he had fallen in love with her, too, as quickly as she had with him. But, suddenly, love was the last thing on her mind.  
  
"I was wondering if we might go back to your place," she said, brushing her fingers across his jacket, looking up at him with slowly closing eyelids.  
  
He seemed a little surprised, looked off into the distance and laughed a bit at the notion, as if she was playing a little game with him, maybe she was joking, or just wanted to come over and watch movies all night and talk. Of course, something in him knew differently, wanted differently, but it was unlike him to follow this course of action.  
  
"Please?" she asked. He was unaware of the effect the tone of her voice had had on him. It was a subtle intonation that only a true actress, a true seductress, could have pulled off with success.  
  
"Okay, sure," he said. "Back to my place it is. Though I warn you, there's nothing for us to do there. I'm a terribly boring guy."  
  
But she kept him entertained. She attacked him with such determination, that he had no time to catch his breath. She had no idea what an amazing lover she could be, the kind of eternal scars she could leave on a man, to make someone so gentle and kind as Grayson have something to hold up as a basis of a comparison, a high place to hopefully one day again achieve. To make him think he would never find such a sensual and seductive woman again was her goal. She would be his Venus de Milo, she would be the painting he hung in his heart to gawk at from time to time, to feel his stomach sink and his groin hot with longing. And she was. Not only this, she had performed an even greater sin; she had showed him the innocent side of her, as well, and had made him fall in love with her in every way possible. He was her slave. It made her feel powerful.  
  
And in the middle of the night, she was overcome with the crime she had committed. She dressed quickly and quietly, crying all the way home, walking forty blocks in the dark, mascara dripping down her face. A cop even stopped by her, thinking she was a prostitute, until he saw her young face and her tears. It was something unexpected in the city, but he took pity on her and drove her the rest of the way home. He gave her sagely wisdom, like how unwise it was to be walking on this side of town in that kind of outfit. How she could get herself hurt. He even found the courage to ask if she had been raped, if that was the reason for her tears. She shook her head "no" and didn't speak again until she thanked him for the ride when they finally reached her apartment.  
  
One thing she knew when she got inside her place was that she had truly achieved her utmost ability to seduce. But she also knew she had been able all along. It had been her choice, and her choice only, when it would be appropriate to show this side. She had chosen the wrong moment. She had fallen for Kal's trickery in believing that she had something to prove. Maybe this was a realization he didn't expect the girls in his little games to come upon. This was the only reason she could come up for his showing up at her job the next day.  
  
He was sitting at a table, waiting for coffee, waiting for her. He smiled at her knowingly, asked her how she liked the party. "Just fine," she told him, and poured the coffee so violently into his cup that it sloshed out and onto his pants. She had to pretend like she cared, and cleaned it up with the napkin, her bitter face and sweet voice at complete odds with each other. She wanted to hit him, or pour the coffee right onto his crotch. He obviously had a woody over the whole circumstance. Maybe she could give him something to really get hot about.  
  
"You're looking awfully sexy today," he said while taking a drag on his cig.  
  
"Oh, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she said hatefully.  
  
"You know, I came to let you know that I wanted to apologize for that time at my place, when I told you that you weren't good enough. I just realized how young and innocent you were, and I didn't want you to lose that. You were definitely a sensual woman, but I just didn't want you to get hurt. You know, this business can hurt a good girl like you. But last night... Well, I thought maybe you were ready, after all. You could be very successful." He said his last words carefully, oh so seductive in the pronunciation of each word. "You looked the part, last night."  
  
And it was every day for three weeks that he engaged in such visits as these. Each time she ignored him, pretended like he hadn't spoken, and did not make any reply, other than to ask for his order. He always left a big tip, or a businesscard; if it wasn't his businesscard, it was the card of one of his seedy friends. He'd wink at her when he left, reminding her in that wink that she was his personal project, the one that would try to get away, but couldn't. It took Sarah three weeks to realize what was going on.  
  
This is really what you get when you engage in any type affair with an evil man. Evil, though seductive, is a bad thing for a very good reason. It makes you worldly beyond your years, and highly unhappy. Instead of seeking the refuge of home and family, like she felt like doing, she ran away from them, to avoid their scrutinizing gazes. She gave up acting, and went into advertising. She moved up fairly quickly in the business, a workaholic to avoid her pain, and missing the joy of innocence that had at one time made her excited about life and her career. Kal had inflicted major damage upon her existence.  
  
As she had on Grayson's. She saw him walking down the street one day with a woman who was presumably his wife, and a little baby in the stroller she pushed. As they passed, his eyes turned toward her. He flipped his hair over his shoulder, but he was not smiling at what he saw, like he would do before. Years of pain reflected in his eyes, as he had obviously come to yearn darker things because of her. She had been able to give up the desire for an insatiable lust because of that night. She had only spurned that desire within him. She tried not to meet his gaze, pretended like she didn't know him. He turned back to his family, and smiled wanly at some words from his wife. He was happy, despite his longing. This gave Sarah some measure of peace.  
  
She knew what it was that he had wanted with her, and what she had often sought herself - a perfect paradox of a human being, who could at once be innocent and dark, to make love like an animal, but to love like a child. Funny though it was, they had found that in each other. A conglomeration of dark and light, a perfect balance that found an honest expression in the other person. But she had ruined it with her actions, by engaging him as she had, all because Kal was watching. Grayson was probably happy in his marriage, but did not have what he truly desired. She was not happy in her job, but it made her forget she was a woman, and was sexually frustrated.  
  
* * *  
  
And this is what she thought about when she looked at Kaleb. She knew how the Underground and Aboveground balance worked... Sometimes things from one world would reflect in the other, like a distorted image. Perhaps Kal and Kaleb were the same. Maybe Jareth and Grayson were also mirror images. It was an opportunity to make a decision over again, in a way. She knew what kind of man Kaleb was, now. He wasn't smoking a cigarette, but he was swishing that wine around in his mouth, cocky and in control of his aura. Even after all this time, after all she had learned, Sarah found a part of herself slipping into the old fascination, her stomach falling in the same old thoughts. Unlike before, she did her best to suppress it, to let her knowledge and wisdom prevail.  
  
She knew what he was up to, he didn't need to explain. Crows perched on the various small windows in the throne room, making it quite obvious to her that he was the one who had started the issue with the crows. For all she knew, everyone in her kingdom was in a fit of hatred, tearing at each other, trying to kill each other for no good reason. Maybe she'd get back and they'd be dead, all of them. She had great faith in their ability to rule themselves, to find a course of action; most of all, she had faith in Sage's wisdom, and his ability to find a way out.  
  
"You know, it caught them all by surprise," he said, finally turning around to speak to her. "My minions have sent word back that all of your people are fighting. Especially interesting to you might be the fact that Sage unwittingly led all of the kings and queens of the other nations outside to engage in battle. They are all dead, now, some at the hands of their own people. I hear that Sage was quite close to you."  
  
Sarah knew he was lying, of course. She wasn't a fool. If Leah, who was there as well, had died, Sarah would know. According to myth, if a person's shadow dies, they die as well. Sometimes that is the reason for inexplicable deaths on earth. But she didn't answer him with surprise, because she had no reason to play his game.  
  
"Oh, really?" she said, and turned her face away from him. She didn't remember how she had gotten there, only remembered waking up sitting in this plush throne, looking out into the small chamber, where black silks draped from the ceilings, and hand-woven tapestries adorned the walls. She rubbed her bare foot against the rug, barely amused by the whole circumstance. She remembered those years ago that Jareth had put her under similar circumstances, trapping her against her will. She had been frightened of him, and too afraid to be obstinate, in avoidance of his wrath. Now she was equally powerful, and only remained long enough to be amused, to gather information. She tried hard to be focused on the situation, to not think about what was going on with Jareth, or where they had been heading before Kaleb pulled his stunt. But then again, she should be somewhat wary; he had a majority of the amethyst in his possession, and could be more powerful than she supposed. He did, after all, have the power necessary to create the crows, and to cast the spell that made them harbingers of doom.  
  
He tapped a bit of ash off the end of some burning incense, then continued, "Well, if that gets no response... You are aware that I am in possession of the remaining piece of the amethyst..." he looked up knowingly, "aren't you?"  
  
She raised a brow at this. "Hmm. And how did you do this?" She knew she had it so well hidden that it was unlikely he had found it. He was probably baiting her for its location.  
  
"You think that you have hidden it too well for me to find... But I have spent the past four years watching you closely, lovely Sarah, and I am in possession of all the secrets of your boudoir. In the wall, two bricks back, underneath the owl painting on the east side. And that blue nightgown you wear on the weekends is particularly striking. I like it best when you are changing into it."  
  
She did not even notice the nightgown comment, she was so busy mulling over the implications of him having possession of the amethyst. He was now the most powerful man in the Underground. He could do whatever he liked, with her, with anyone. It was an extreme insult to her abilities as a ruler to have lost control so completely, for her people, and the people of the entire Underground, to be at such a risk due to her inability to protect such an item. But she mustn't be too harsh on herself. Not only would it not do any good, but she had no idea she was dealing with such a resourceful and powerful individual. Indeed, she had been unaware of his existence until today. Was it the same day? She wasn't sure how long she had been out of it.  
  
Suddenly he appeared to her immediate left, his face only a centimeter away from her own. He took in her scent with much display. "Mmm, how long I have wanted to be able to smell you. You smell like... Crysanthemums. My my, how you have filled your role as a woman in the past four years, Sarah. You have no idea what your presence can do to a man."  
  
"I can't begin to tell you what the lack of your presence would do for me."  
  
He chuckled at her response, grabbed her by the wrists, and started swinging her about the room in dance, as if she were a rag doll. She tried to resist, but it didn't matter much anyway, as they were floating half a foot above the ground, and her feet were without power. "Ah, it is no matter, we sometimes do not realize how badly we want something until our defenses are stripped completely down."  
  
"I want none of this, and you know so. Please don't play your little mind games with me, I tire easily of them these days." She looked him in the eye. "I know who you are. Jareth told me. You and I met long ago." She wasn't yet sure that she believed Jareth's story, but, if it was true, perhaps she could get some more out of him by surprising him with her own knowledge. "I'm not the same girl. I don't play along with your games as I once did."  
  
"Ah, but Sarah, I know you are not the same woman. I would not want that nieve little child. But to have the impulses of a child again... That is what you would want. A mature woman inside the spirit of a child?" He pursed his lips sensually. "Hmm, there are different games for you and I to play, my dear. And I am not the same, either. Being insanely powerful does a little something for the little streaks of violence, does it not? It has helped my sense of humor tremendously."  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes. "What do you want from me, then?"  
  
He stopped the dance, holding her at arms length, backing away a great distance. His seductive smile only increased in his movement. "I can have whatever I want, now. But I shant tell you what I want from you. You already know that."  
  
"Please spell it out for me, then, I am dense."  
  
He was behind her now, his whisper of a voice startling her. "I want to break you. Mmm, and you can be broken. Don't think otherwise." Suddenly he bounded across the room to lunge into his throne. "Or do think otherwise. It will certainly make you a much more interesting playmate."  
  
That was when Sarah got pissed. She mustered all of the magic she could handle, and threw an energy burst straight at him. A smoldering pile of ash was all that remained when she finished.  
  
"That was way too easy," she mused, unconvinced. 


	20. Chapter 19: Horribly British

CHAPTER XIX: Horribly British  
  
We have an advantage that they are unaware of," Sage mused, smiling.  
  
"Dear me, and I thought our luck had begun to fail us," Jareth answered.  
  
Sage turned to Leah, who seemed mildly uncomfortable being so close to Jareth. It seemed she would punch him in the face at any moment. "How did you get here, Leah? I mean, to the Underground?"  
  
"I traveled through the mirrors. Are you saying we can use the mirrors to get where we need to go? To get the rulers to their respective kingdoms?"  
  
"I'm afraid not. You see, we must travel in a group to fight the crows together. We need the Beast King's power over the winds for our journey." He brushed some dust off of his smart vest. "But there is nothing preventing one from making a journey Aboveground."  
  
"What good would that do us?" Leah asked, seeming to forget her proximity to the former Goblin King. Jareth seemed relieved by her change in demeanor. She noticed his relief and scowled at him.  
  
He looked away and added to her question, "Yes, I fail to understand the implications, as well."  
  
"Oh, quit being so British," Leah snapped with a sneer.  
  
"You are truly nothing like Sarah," Jareth retorted, somewhat amazed by her attitude.  
  
"I just speak my mind, and don't get taken in by your charade."  
  
"No, you're quick to anger and make judgments about others. Or, if you prefer that I be less British, you're acting like a bitch."  
  
Sage stepped between them. "Come now, this is not the time for bickering! You can have at each other later."  
  
"Not worth the effort," Leah bit.  
  
"Can I finish?" Sage asked.  
  
"Yes," Jareth and Leah chimed together. They hated each other for their syncopation.  
  
"As I was saying," Sage continued, "there is someone Aboveground who can help us. A lad with a tremendous, yet unrealized, power."  
  
"Toby," Leah said. Jareth began to mouth the name, but thought better of it.  
  
"Yes," Sage replied, keeping his left eye on them, and his right eye on the scheming royalty. "The mirrors only work one way. You can go through an enchanted mirror and come out of any mirror or reflecting surface of your choosing, but you can only use an enchanted mirror to return. Once you found Toby, you could get him to take you to Leah's mirror, which you could use to locate Kaleb. And, with your spells, Toby could use his magic to help you destroy Kaleb."  
  
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Leah exclaimed. "You sound like you're planning on sending Jareth to get Toby alone. Without my help."  
  
"Well, yes, I am."  
  
"And why is that? I think I should be the one to get Toby. I don't trust him anywhere near my - Sarah's," she fumbled, still a bit uncertain about her relationship with Toby, "- my brother," she finally decided. "He's tried to kidnap him on two separate occasions. I need a little more than a day's time in order to be convinced that he's trustworthy."  
  
"Well, Leah," Sage replied, "You don't have anymore time, and I need you for other matters. You must play the role of Sarah while she is being held captive by Kaleb. As long as the people are unaware that she's been captured, we have the advantage of taking back the stability that Kaleb tried to steal from us by kidnapping Sarah."  
  
"Okay, I'll give you that much, but why does Jareth need Toby to help him cast the spell to kill Kaleb? Can't Jareth do it himself?"  
  
"I'm afraid not," Jareth replied. "All my powers left me long ago."  
  
"Oh, that's just great. So how is Toby gonna do it? He has absolutely no control over his powers."  
  
"Let me explain," Sage interceded. "Jareth has a bit of power left in him. Enough to act as the will for a spell. He can will the spell to work while Toby provides the energy needed to cast the spell. I was going to help Jareth originally, and we were going to try to convince Sarah to contribute. It's a big spell, hard for one experienced sorcerer to handle. But, with Sarah gone, we may not have her help. Toby could be our backup plan."  
  
Leah sighed. "I guess I have no choice. Okay, let Jareth go to get him." She leaned into Jareth and prodded his nose with her finger. "Look you. I'd better not regret this. You're right, I am a bitch, but this dog has a bite worse than her bark. I've taken down three corporations for environmental hazards, and I'll take you down too." She stepped down. "And what's with the goatee?"  
  
Jareth tugged on his facial hair and replied in a sulky voice, "I like it."  
  
"Hmm. Well, I'm going to change into my Sarah costume. You guys do whatever you're gonna do." Just as she walked off, Sir Didymus approached.  
  
"Sirs, I couldn't help but hear your plan. I do not think it wise to send Sir Jareth to find the lad on his own. Can I not be of service? I would be honored to accompany him Aboveground." With that, he bowed and rolled his hat forward gracefully.  
  
"I don't think that would be wise, Didymus," Sage replied. "Aboveground is very different from Underground. You would not fit in."  
  
"But Sir, I am keen and crafty. Surely they would not suspect that I was a spy?"  
  
"That is not the problem," Jareth explained. "Talking dogs are not common on this world."  
  
Sage gave Jareth a sidelong glance, surely due to the fact that he had already predicted the knight's reaction to Jareth's unthinking statement.  
  
"What dost thou say? That I, Sir Didymus, am a mere dog?" The word rolled of his tongue with more than slight disgust. "I am a man, as equal as you or Sage."  
  
"I didn't mean to offend," Jareth countered quickly, "but, only to say, that most furry men such as yourself are not known to speak. I do not question your equality, dear knight, but wish to overstep any potential problems."  
  
"What a strange place in which some men do not speak. I have never known such a thing. All things speak, except for lichen." Sir Didymus scratched his whiskers thoughtfully. "What kind of place is this?"  
  
"Yes, I meant to ask the same. What kind of place am I in store for? Is this the city where Sarah lived?"  
  
Leah returned quickly, looking much like Sarah. "What do you think? The fairy queen helped me by conjuring up a wig."  
  
"Spitting image," Jareth replied under his breath.  
  
"Did you say something about spitting on me, Jareth?"  
  
"No, not at all. Just remarking on how similar you look. Your personality is something quite different, though, I'm afraid."  
  
"Yes, different in many wonderful ways." Leah left it at that and turned to Sage. "What were you talking about?"  
  
"Leah, do you live in the same city as Toby? Jareth will need the boy to lead him to the mirror."  
  
"Yeah, I moved there to be close to him. But, remember, he's run away. For all I know, my folks found him already... And that's bad news for you if you're going to try to snatch him away again... See what my parents think when Mr. Fancy Pants tries to convince them that he needs Toby to join him on an honorable quest to save his sister from his shadow. He he." She seemed highly amused by the scene.  
  
"Why, I would think they would be proud to send their son on such a noble quest!" Sir Didymus chimed.  
  
Leah didn't respond, knowing Sir Didymus' nature as well as Sage. "Let's just hope he's still running around the city, on his own." She sighed. "I never thought I'd wish such a thing."  
  
Jareth considered the situation a moment. "Then, I will not have to worry about being in a highly unfamiliar place," he mused. "I have not been to or seen any of the more highly populated areas Aboveground. It would be too difficult for me to find my way about."  
  
"Now, all you have to worry about is Toby's gnome conjuring," Leah answered.  
  
"Gnome conjuring?" Jareth asked.  
  
"Apparently Toby conjured up some gnomes who turned a girl's hair blue. He was sent home. No one believed his story, they thought he was trying to blame it on his invisible friends, like children usually do."  
  
"Gnomes are horribly cheeky," Jareth said, shaking his head.  
  
"Oh, they're cheeky, are they? For someone who doesn't know their way around major cities Aboveground, you're awfully East London," Leah said.  
  
He ignored her intent. "I use to have a couple of gnome companions. They were full of all sorts of adventure and mischief."  
  
Sage couldn't help but smile, "Gnomes, eh?"  
  
"I was young once, and a lot more innocent," Jareth retorted. "They were good fellows. We sang songs together. You'd probably find it hard to believe, but we were quite popular."  
  
"I don't believe this," Leah said, rolling her eyes. "I thought you were being British before, but nothing is more British than quipping about gnomes when trouble is unhinging the door."  
  
"No, the word quip is very British. I am merely avoiding reality for a moment."  
  
Leah headed toward the secret passageway, "Can we just get a move on?"  
  
Sage and Jareth followed close behind. They did not see Didymus walk toward Ambrosius and pat him on the head. "There's a good boy. Now, you will have to sit this one out. Go find a place to hide, and wait for me." Ambrosius seemed ecstatic by the notion of hiding. "That's a good boy. I'm sorry you have to miss out on the adventure." Ambrosius was far from disappointed, surely heading the least habited and best stocked room of food.  
  
Soon, Didymus was walking through the secret passageways, his paws click- clacking their way close behind the threesome.  
  
  
  
Granen was purely lost. More lost than reality could allow. Only moments ago, he had been in his chambers, waiting for a lovely lass to return to his boudoir from her undressing efforts, when a raging hoard of elves ran into his room, ready to kill him. He was going to save the lass from their evil deeds, but she soon was running into the room, baring her beautiful white teeth and him, also ready to kill him. She didn't seem to mind that she was completely naked, nor did the elves. The lust for murder outweighed the lust for flesh.  
  
It's hard to think fast when a beautiful naked woman has come into the room, Granen mumbled under his breath. What fine busoms she had, aye. Damn her busoms to hell, they are what got me into this mess.  
  
Granen hadn't had much time to make a decision. Seeing one of Jareth's paintings in the corner, he mumbled the phrase that he always heard Jareth mumble before he magically stepped into his paintings. He hadn't had much time to look at the painting before he jumped in. After all, there had been a bloodthirsty nude at his back, accompanied by a pack of sharp- toothed elves. So he just jumped in.  
  
He tried to remember which painting it was. Ah, yes, that little number he did during his blue period, right after he left that lass, Sarah, behind. I had to hop into the most depressing painting, hadn't I?  
  
Okay, it was weird and depressing. Lizards with an unusual number of limbs in an assortment of sizes slithered by. The trees were moaning, he was sure of it. Their branchy tendrils waved in the breeze as if they were swaying to a morbid tune. He hadn't remembered Jareth painting any fairies into the picture, but there they were, half the size of a thumbnail and in a biting frenzy. It all gave him the willies.  
  
You can get through this, Granen. Just remember the high point of your evening. Just remember the bosoms. 


	21. Chapter 20: Naked Souls

CHAPTER XX: Naked Souls  
  
Sarah had tried to escape. There wasn't any way to do so. It wasn't an invisible barrier. It wasn't an implanted fear, through magic or otherwise. The problem was very simple.  
  
There were no doors. Or windows. Not even a damn broom closet.  
  
One would think this would make the place dramatically dark.  
  
It did.  
  
Sarah wasn't usually taken in by such things, but she got chills wherever she stepped. It was a beautiful place, despite her fears. But her worry over her deserted kingdom would not let her enjoy the beauty of her cage.  
  
She wasn't exactly sure why Kaleb had disappeared, thus allowing her to explore the castle. Perhaps to press further how hopeless her escape was. But, she wasn't wont to give up hope.  
  
So she tried to blow up a wall. It shattered, only to reveal another room. She stepped through the wreckage to explore further.  
  
Was it water? It was dark at first, and hard to discern the source of that rushing noise. As her eyes adjusted to the increasing dark, she became certain that it was. It was coming from all around. She finally began to see that there was an inky liquid flowing down the walls and across the floor, stopping a foot away from her figure and seeping into nothingness. The strange whirlpool followed her wherever she went.  
  
Upon closer inspection, the room was almost round, except for a very slight curvature of the floor. She walked to the other side to get a closer look at the liquid. A soft light emanated from the center of the room, impromptu, with nothing to create it. It helped her to see what awaited her in the depths of the strange water.  
  
It was her reflection. But, instead of the white gown she had donned earlier that day for the festival, she was greeted by an image of herself in all black, feathers drifting about her cheekbones.  
  
"Ah, lovely. You see my predicted future for you, Sarah. I think you'd look stunning in black." Kaleb stepped above the liquid, not rippling it one bit.  
  
Sarah had been disturbed a bit by the image, but not so much as Kaleb would like. "Don't you have things to destroy?"  
  
"Now, a good queen would do whatever she could to distract the villain from his evil deeds."  
  
"Hmm," she replied. "I know from experience that you have the presence of mind to do several things at once."  
  
"Still not phased by my attempts at intimidation?" Kaleb answered as he honed in on her.  
  
"Take a guess."  
  
"Would it help if I told you I was mistreated as a child?"  
  
"Please, save your humor."  
  
"Don't be so cold. You know there is a part of you that is drawn towards darkness and suffering."  
  
"You have always been the one to know what it is that I desire, haven't you?"  
  
"That's the most reasonable thing you've said. Of course I have always known your desires." Kaleb gazed into the shimmering wall and continued, "That wall reflects the darkest secrets of one's soul."  
  
Sarah turned around to look. She only saw herself reflected, as the wraith of herself. "You don't have a reflection. Does that make you a vampire?" she said without a chuckle.  
  
"No. It reveals that I am an empty soul. Nothing more."  
  
Sarah was struck by the abrupt honesty with which he was able to reveal his own nature. She looked again - her image had changed. Some white was intermingled in the gown of her placid, gloomy self. On the arm of the dress appeared some white feathers. She examined her own arm to see that her own dress was turning black, in a growing, feathery pattern. Her eyes met the smiling eyes of Kaleb. She was transforming into this other self, more with each moment. Kaleb acknowledged her fear with a slight grin before leaving the room.  
  
"What are you doing to me?" she demanded, trailing after him.  
  
"Me? My dear, you are doing it to yourself. This time, I have nothing to do with it. It's your deepest desires made manifest. Look at you... A very responsible queen, and you have extended yourself across a whole kingdom. Your life belongs to thousands. Just for one moment, Sarah has wanted to know what it would be like to be without having to think of everyone else." He honed in on her, driving the point home, "To lose yourself in a complete abandon, where you could do anything you like?"  
  
She was speechless.  
  
"Don't feel bad, Sarah. Everyone wants to know what it's like to wear black. And to give everyone else cause to do so, as well."  
  
With that, he left. She didn't know what to think about all of this. He walked out of the room, left her to her own devices, as if he were confident that she was caged for good. She could feel the chill of black creeping up her arm, she could hear the wet plop of the inky water against the stones, and it all brought a murderous sensation into her blood. She turned to face her reflection, and was stopped cold.  
  
The Sarah in the mirror smiled. I didn't move, Sarah worked to convince herself. That wasn't the real me. She was amazed to see that any expression on her face could be so evil.  
  
Without warning, she barged into the wall, smashing the image with her body. The ink dripped down her body, all over her dress, into her crevices, over her lips and teeth. The blackness consumed her, suffocating and enlivening all at once. With a furious roar, Sarah stormed out of the room, mustering all the strength she could to fight the demon that had come charging into her spirit. The fiery hell raged through her, and she beat it back with cold stones of ice.  
  
Yet, somehow she knew why her reflection had smiled, knew that a familiar part of her was gone, trapped behind the inky waters, wearing the white of a caged pigeon.  
  
Sarah was lost in the Labyrinth of herself.  
  
* * *  
  
"Well, here we are, and none to soon. That's twice an elf has tried to skin me. I'm rather fond of my flesh," Jareth joked.  
  
"If you hurry back, you may get to see us again before we're skewered," Leah said.  
  
"And I was thinking about stopping for a nice dinner... Toby and I could catch up on old times."  
  
"Just get a move on," Leah commanded.  
  
"Yes, well, here I go. And I didn't dress properly for a trip out of town. Damn." He pat Sage on the shoulder whilst Leah glowered at him. "See ya, good chap. Bring Sarah back to her loving sister and hated ex-arch enemy." He met Leah's arched eye and said, "Yes, here I go, moving along."  
  
He stepped into the mirror, the metallic surface shimmering in contour about his form. Only one foot remained in their reality when Leah and Sage were taken by complete surprise as Sir Didymus' furry figure hopped after the former Goblin King, crying "Geronimo!!!"  
  
"Oh dear," was all Sage could say. "Things have just gotten, erm... hairy?"  
  
* * *  
  
Jareth stepped out from nothingness into the somethingness of an alley in New York. Cars were whizzing by just five yards away, and the bright lights of a big city mesmerized even his jaded eyes.  
  
"This doesn't look like Whispering Pines," he mused forebodingly.  
  
Then Sir Didymus popped out of the air and landed on the concrete on his bum.  
  
"Oh, and this makes things just peachy." He looked down at the fox with an arched brow. It wasn't like him to be negatively affected by most negative occurrences, so he bit back the urge to spout a witty British comeback at life's lovely knack of dealing him futile hands.  
  
And then he thought again. "You know, and I thought of going back to bed this morning. Dammit if I choose the best time to be motivated."  
  
Sir Didymus got up and faced Jareth, his jaw working to unhinge his embarrassment for having been so foolhardy. "Er, I, thought it best that I accompany you, Sir."  
  
Jareth gave the fox a long look. "You are known for your wreckless bravado, are you not, Sir Knight?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose I am. But I am brave and win every battle!"  
  
"Do you storm in every time?"  
  
"Why, most certainly. I do not wish the enemy to think I am a coward!"  
  
"Far be it from me to be the type of gent to throw out harassing comments, but I think you have put yourself in the position of looking more like the fool, Sir Didymus. Do not all noble knights follow the commands of their queen?"  
  
"Why, naturally, Sir."  
  
"And who acts as counsel in absence of the queen?"  
  
"Why, Sir Sage, of course."  
  
"And did he not tell you to remain Underground while I retrieve the boy?"  
  
Sir Didymus worked his jaw some more. "Er, I, yes, I recall..."  
  
"Let us just get one thing clear, shall we? You are to consider my words commands in the absence of Sage's counsel. Do you understand? This is a strange place that even I am quite unfamiliar with, and I don't need you to stick your wet nose into unwanted trouble."  
  
Sir Didymus was quiet a moment before finally answering, "Yes Sir. I am sorry to have disgraced you."  
  
Jareth turned toward the street beyond the alley. "Now, Sir Knight, that I have made my wishes clear to you, let us not dwell on the matter. Let your actions be carefully considered from here on, and you will earn my respect and forgiveness."  
  
"You are most kind, Sir."  
  
Jareth headed out into the night, carefully stepping over the legs of the amazed homeless man looking on. "I have always been known for my generosity," he mused satirically.  
  
He worked his way to the end of the wall and looked out into the passing throng of people in amazement. "My heavens, where the hell are we?"  
  
"Pardon me, sir, but is this not our desired destination?" Sir Didymus asked.  
  
"Sssh," Jareth answered. "You remember what I said about you not being able to speak here? You must be very quiet if you are to communicate with me. It will cause a great deal of suspicion if others were to hear you."  
  
"They will believe me a spy, Sir?" Sir Didymus queried with a confused expression.  
  
"Yes, that is it." Jareth looked out from beyond the wall and saw in the distance a giant Coca-Cola sign flickering large over the buildings. He was mere blocks away from Times Square. "And, to answer your question, no, we are not at our desired destination, Didymus. We are in a place called New York. I recognize it, as this is where Sarah once lived. You see their strange iconography in the distance?"  
  
"Ah, yes. Is that where the Fieries dwell?"  
  
"No, it is merely a sign. I believe it is associated with some sort of intoxicating beverage."  
  
"Very odd to make signs about such things," Sir Didymus commented. "I wonder if the fairies that make it flicker like that must be working very hard."  
  
Jareth did not hear his comment, but began to head out into the crowd. Sir Didymus tagged behind, nearly getting stepped on by a number of people. Once he finally caught up, he noticed that people were staring at him, and then turning to face Jareth with an odd expression. Jareth noticed as well. "Damn, they're noticing," Jareth mumbled.  
  
Sir Didymus kept quiet. He could not, however, suppress a yap when a wild- haired lady snatched him up like this morning's Christmas sale. She held him tightly, pulling off his hat and petting his fur violently. She turned an accusing stare to the stunned Jareth. "How dare you! Making your dog wear clothes like this!" Sir Didymus was soon going to blurt out a curse related to people who steal the hats of fine knights. He grabbed feebly for the hat, but she did not notice. She was too busy chewing Jareth out. Jareth noticed that Sir Didymus was beginning a vocal growl, and he put his fingers to his lips to indicate that the fox needed to keep silent.  
  
"How inhumane!" she declared. "And telling him to shush. Things like this make dogs violent, you know? I'm a card-carrying member of the Human Society, and I can't believe you'd put your dog through this, let alone walk him through mid-New York at night without a leash. What're you thinking?"  
  
Jareth looked taken aback. He had no idea how to respond to her outburst.  
  
* * *  
  
Moments later, Jareth was walking down the sidewalk, holding a sans- clothes, very upset Didymus in his arms. Didymus held his clothes, moaning, "Oh, the indignity!"  
  
"Sorry, chap, but this is going to be the way it is whilst we're on this world," Jareth replied. "Next thing you know, they're going to make me join a rock band, and we'll all be suffering indignation." Didymus began murmuring like a wounded puppy. "Now, now, Didymus. You are a very fine knight for making such a sacrifice. They will surely not suspect that you are a spy, now."  
  
"Really?" he asked, his ears perking up. "Yes, I guess that is so. I will have them fooled. They will never suspect that I am looking to take their finest sorcerer away from them."  
  
"Who would that be?" Jareth asked.  
  
"Sir Toby, of course," Didymus replied in a matter-of-fact whisper.  
  
"Oh, right." Jareth had no intention of wounding his sense of grandeur. "Well, I hope we find the lad soon. He should be somewhere around here. Too bad I don't have my magic to tell me where he is.  
  
Sir Didymus pointed to the window of a shop. "Is not that a place of magic?" he whispered.  
  
Jareth turned to look. It was indeed a magic shop, and just beyond the velvet curtains in the window he could see a young boy and a beautiful woman sitting across from each other, deep in conversation. "Well, well. This little leopard hasn't changed his spots." He ruffled Didymus' fur. "You may prove to be of assistance after all, chap."  
  
"Oh, please. Nudity is hard enough, but must you pet me like a mere dog?" the knight moaned.  
  
"Oh, right. I'm quite sorry. Let's go in and meet the boy, shall we?" 


	22. Chapter 21: The Tables Turn

CHAPTER XXI: The Tables Turn  
  
Getting the various kings and queens of the Underground to agree to the dangerous act of leaving the castle had proven fairly easy. Coming up with a plan for escaping the effects of the demonic crows had come with little effort. In the style of true warriors at heart had they all gathered about their exit, awaiting the call of the Beast King in his melancholy love song to the wind. But there were unexpected problems.  
  
"Damn, it's cold," Benedick whined in half a cat's meow. He was certainly not purring.  
  
"Didn't think about it, but that is a trait that comes with wind, eh?" Sage said, punching the cat in the arm as if they were busom buddies getting ready for a game of Frisbee and some barbequed ribs at the park.  
  
"Sorry..." the Beast king said between moans. "South wind cold. North wind warm. North wind not friendly."  
  
"Isn't that backwards?" Benedick said, brow arched.  
  
The Beast king merely shrugged his shoulders and trudged on, the wind beginning to clear a path before them. At this moment it merely cleared away fallen leaves and party debris.  
  
They were in the southern portion of the castle, a small distance from the scene of fighting. Crows filled the sky relentlessly, but there wasn't an immediate danger of being discovered.  
  
The danger was behind schedule by a minute or so.  
  
"Eep!" cried the leader of the Fieries. "Here come them elves! They looks like they gonna pull all our arms off and use'em fer shish kebobs! That ain't so groovy!" "So it does. And I just had elf meat cleaned off my breeches this afternoon," Benedick quipped. "Well, if we have to fight..."  
  
Sage stopped him. "No. Wait."  
  
The Beast king moaned more forcefully, and the wind came in a great gust that not only blew the beast's shaggy fur torrentially about his pug-nosed face, but sent the elves reeling against the wall, where they attempted to raise themselves in their stupor of adrenaline and anger.  
  
"Ah, there you go. Our friend has parted the seas." He beckoned for the other kings and queens to go before him. "Shall we?"  
  
Eberon ran before his minions, covering his face against the wind. "Damn you Sage, I'll get you! Just you wait!"  
  
Sage put a hand to his ear mockingly, and replied, "Eh? Sorry chap, can't hear you. Got a trip to make! I'm sure we can continue this conversation later."  
  
Clearly peeved beyond redemption, Eberon spoke to one of the elves, who looked as if he might slit someone's throat any moment. "Look, you get a group of elves, and follow them. I don't care how long it takes. They'll have to let up sometime. Bring back Sage, but you can kill the others if you so choose."  
  
He was clearly ready to satiate his growing appetite for murder. "Yes, Eberon."  
  
Eberon looked as if he had been sorely inconvenienced by the whole situation. "Just get out of my face! Where's my masseuse when I need him? My temples are throbbing. Oh, right, he went on a murderous rampage this morning. Would someone tell me when the ride is done?" With that, he sighed deeply and trudged to his temporary quarters in the castle.  
  
On one desk sat a cage carrying several bizarre-looking pigeons. Eberon looked at them disgustedly and remarked,"You are the most creepy aquiline creatures I have set eyes upon. You have much in common with your master. I certainly hope he gets the job done as well as you have seemed to." He shuffled over to another desk and tried to scribble out a note with a common ball-point pen. It dried out before he had even begun, and he threw it at the wall in exasperation. "Stupid pens! Some things should just stay above ground! Where's my quill pen? Dammitall if everything doesn't go wrong at once!" He tried to find another pen, in vain. "I must send Jareth, or Kaleb, whoever the blast he is a message. I need a pen!" He looked down, and a quill feather floated before him. He looked up to find the source, but knew what he would face before it was in front of his eyes.  
  
"Looking for me, maybe?" Kaleb replied as he sauntered into the room.  
  
"Er, yes Jareth. I was about to send you a message." The hautiness disappeared quickly.  
  
"Perhaps about the fact that your most important prisoners have escaped? You could have contacted me directly. But, I understand. You didn't want to face my wrath."  
  
"Perhaps it was something of that nature."  
  
"Hm. Well, I am not angry just yet. Did you notice if Jareth... the other Jareth... was amongst them?"  
  
"I didn't see him, no." He almost flinched at his own words.  
  
"Really." Kaleb seemed to contain his anger well. "You know, it's beginning to look as if you are of very little use to me, Eberon. I'm starting to doubt your abilities."  
  
"Oh no, you won't threaten me," Eberon answered, only semi-sure of his assuredness. "You've pulled that trick on many others before, but I am the king of the elves."  
  
"Yes, the elves. Who are now a bungling group of anarchist militia under my spell. And what else do you have to your advantage, Eberon?"  
  
"Er,... my intelligence."  
  
"Which has managed to fail you completely unto this point. Now, tell me, do you really think I am threatening you? Because I wouldn't have you think that for an instant."  
  
"Really? I'm sorry for doubting you, Jareth."  
  
"Don't be. It's too late for that."  
  
Faster than it takes most suicide jumpers to hit ground after a lunge from a five-story building, Kaleb and Eberon were inside Kaleb's remarkably gloomy palace. Actually, Kaleb was looking at Eberon, who seemed a mere plaything within the glass cage where Kaleb had placed him. He had been dressed fancifully in a doll's attire, and was amongst doll-like belongings. He was a jester prince, and would be the delight of any four- year old.  
  
"You see, Eberon, I don't make threats. And, I have passed my judgment on your behalf. You are a play-king, so I think I shall treat you as such. Enjoy your new home."  
  
As Kaleb began to leave, he added, "Now you can be my entertainment instead of my constant disappointment, eh?"  
  
"This isn't right! I helped you! I did everything you asked, and more! And this is how you treat me?" Eberon was shouting, his white makeup leaving a smudge on the glass as he pressed against it.  
  
"Ah, fitting actions for one who looks like a fool." Kaleb turned to face the elf a last time before he left. "Besides, what is fair? What you did to Sage's wife... Now that was cruel treatment. Your shining moment. You, of all people, must understand that fairness never enters the picture. You, my friend, have no basis for comparison."  
  
With that, he left, to see in what state Sarah awaited him. He licked his lips eversoslightly at the prospect of what was to come.  
  
Eberon merely sat and glowered, cursing his self-sown demise.  
  
Toby looked up from the nearly empty plate of cookies to see a blond-haired man step into the room. A look of recognition crossed his face as Madame Marlena rose from her seat to greet who appeared to be a new customer... with a cute little dog.  
  
"Hello sir. How can I help you?" Marlena asked, her elfin eyes hinting at a secret past, and her flirtatious grin carrying the grace of a princess.  
  
"Hello Madame. I am... looking for this young lad you have sitting with you."  
  
Toby looked a little surprised. Rattlebeak popped his head up from behind the couch where he was hiding when he heard Jareth's voice. Cookie crumbs fell from his beak as he cried, "Sir Didymus! Long time no see! What're you doing with this loser, hey?" He brushed cookie crumbs off his wings before flying over to the fox. "Man, what happened to you? You look like you've been attacked by a freezing, desperate dwarf. What're you holding your clothes for?"  
  
"Don't ask, dear sir. For once, I don't wish to delve into the tale." Sir Didymus sniffled, huffed, and looked off into the distance disdainfully.  
  
Jareth looked baffled by the circumstances, as well as Toby. Marlena was the only one who seemed to think such matters were commonplace. The situation duly summed up, the woman went to the door, turned her "Open" sign around to read "Closed," then closed the curtains. "We don't want the neighborhood spying in on this unique situation," she explained as she locked the door.  
  
"You're the Goblin King, aren't you?!" Toby exclaimed in sudden understanding as he toppled the cookies. "Sorry," he mumbled shyly to Marlena.  
  
"It's quite all right," she soothed.  
  
"Pardon me, Madame, but you aren't the least bit thrown by any of this?" Jareth asked.  
  
"Just a bit. But, I do practice magic, and have seen a few talking familiars in my time."  
  
"Familiars?" Didymus asked.  
  
"Animals who have-"  
  
"Eh, Madame, before you continue this story which will surely rouse our fine knight into another semi-avoidable pitch of anger, let me introduce myself and my companion."  
  
"Why, yes, of course," she answered. "I am Marlena."  
  
"My name is Jareth, and this is Sir Didymus. I haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting the Magicmocker fellow..."  
  
"Who says I should introduce myelf to you?" Rattlebeak huffed.  
  
"Well, you certainly don't have to, but I think you have a wrong impression of me."  
  
"Rattlebeak. Don't ask me nuthin' else. I don't have any reason to trust you. Last time I had any involvement with you, you had me and Sarah running on a goose-chase all over the Underground. She wasn't a happy camper."  
  
"Yes, but at least you got to eat all of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I provided her."  
  
"Er, well, you do have a point..."  
  
"I always have a point. Whether it is valid is another point entirely."  
  
"Well, do come in and have a seat and tell me about your circumstances. I would offer cookies, but I believe that Rattlebeak has enjoyed them quite thoroughly," Marlena said genteely.  
  
"They were delicious!" the bird replied. "I was hoping you had more."  
  
"What are you doing here?" Toby asked, breaking the frivolous conversation and getting to the point.  
  
Jareth sat down whilst Didymus slinked to a corner where he could dress in private. He soon returned in full garb, in time for Jareth's explanation. "Well, Toby, we need your help..."  
  
* * *  
  
Caked in mud and wholly miserable, Granen trudged through Jareth's "grey matter" in search for some type of escape route. As he had never actually been in one of Jareth's paintings, he didn't know the words that would help him leave. He had only seen Jareth enter, nothing more.  
  
"Curse you, lad, I'll teach you to ever pick up a paintbrush again while in a morose state. Your suicidal thoughts are going to be my death!"  
  
He pulled his jacket closer and looked for a nice rotten branch to sit upon. As soon as he did, little glowing orbs of fairies floated around his head.  
  
"Little fey, there's nothin' here of warmth or brightness for you to see. Just a grumpy old Irishman."  
  
"You are wrong, Granen of the steppes," a multitude of crystalline fairy voices chimed. "You are a warm spirit. You bring fire into souls."  
  
"Ah, this painting is evidence enough that I don't. I tried hard enough to bring Jareth out of the gloom that he was having at the time he painted this. Not a thing worked."  
  
"No. Look behind you and see your footsteps." The unearthly voices beckoned him to look. Never before had he heard a more feminine voice, and, for once, he did not picture bosoms. Instead, strangely, he saw wind chimes made of shards of glass.  
  
He did as bidden. Behind him, where he had stepped, ribbons of colors swayed dreamily and abstractly into the environment. "How did I do that?" he asked. "That wasn't there before."  
  
"But it was..." The little sprites inched forward close enough to where he could barely glimpse through squinted eyes a hint of a female figure. "We speak for Jareth, for he created us. You created the rainbow of color. You can see your kind deeds at work. In reality, they sit, a mere spot of color in the corner of this painting. But where you walk, the colors come alive. They live in Jareth's mind, so here they live, as well. You helped to make him whole again." Their voices trailed into the air, an echo of brilliance. Their slow cadence filled the greyness with a vibrant calm.  
  
"Wow. I didn't realize I had anything to do with it. Well, I daresay, he's kept me sane upon occasion. And driven me insane as well, wot?!" He slapped his knees and rose. "You lovely ladies wouldn't know how I would get out of this mess, would ya?"  
  
"You cannot leave yet, Granen of the steppes."  
  
"And why would that be?" he asked.  
  
"You think you are only in a painting. But Jareth's painting lives in the Mist of Dreams. This is one of his dreams. There are many dreams living here, it is but for you to journey into whichever you choose."  
  
"Why would I want to do that? Seems a bit intrusive, doesn't it?"  
  
"Some intrusions are necessary."  
  
They flittered away mystically, and with their departure, came another barely audible voice, calling in the distance.  
  
"Help me... I can't wake up...."  
  
* * *  
  
Sarah admired herself in the mirror. The inky black was slowly drizzling away from her skin and transforming itself into the black feathers and gown she had donned in her reflection. It was a spectacular site to behold, she thought, to see with one's own eyes in a matter of seconds the transformation of the soul into something so extreme. She was far enough past the resistance to feel a sort of cunning for having fooled herself so, to have watched in third person as the woman who was Sarah was twisted into a new creature by... whom? Was it Kaleb?  
  
No. She did it to herself, though she had no knowledge of how cunning she was in her own subconscious. No longer subconscious. Now, the Sarah that had been tucked away for so long was released, and there would be no more ceremonies, no more grand and lovely speeches, no more placing her needs below that of the creatures of seven different kingdoms.  
  
Kaleb wanted a playmate, he wanted to treat her like his evil little doll, just as he had done with Eberon. Yes, she knew of Eberon. With her dark side unleashed, she was much more in touch with her powers.  
  
Well, she wasn't going to be anyone's plaything. Besides, she knew exactly which strings to pull with Kaleb. Now she was in the position to pull them. She'd pull everyone's strings. And they wouldn't even know what was happening.  
  
She looked around the luxurious chambers that she could easily see had meant to be her bedroom. She could hear Kaleb walking down the hall, toward her, toward the woman he thought would be the Bonnie to his Clyde.  
  
She fluttered around, facing him like a frightened doe. He grinned evilly.  
  
"Ah, hello my raven. Feeling well?"  
  
"What have you done to me?!" she shouted. "I'm- I'm changing! This is the most horrible feeling! How could you do this?" She clenched her fists in pain, her face taut. Oh, what an actress Sarah had become!  
  
"Only giving you the opportunity to play the part, dearest. You'll be thanking me soon enough." He closed in on her and stroked her chin. "It only surprises me that you haven't caved in sooner. You're stronger than I thought."  
  
"What does it matter? You plan to cave me in before it's all over with."  
  
"I do. You're right. It doesn't matter. But, for safety's sake, I will have to lock you in this room until you have completed your transformation. I can't trust you just yet."  
  
"You bastard."  
  
"Now now, no need for harsh words. You can torment me later when I can fully express to you the things it does to me." He pretended to have a chill, walked out the door, then motioned the door shut and locked with the mere swing of his hand, bringing him out of her sight. At least, her immediate sight.  
  
I can't manipulate the solid things here, but at least I can see everything within the castle. That is one advantage I have. Soon, I will have more. I'm going to steal the amethyst back from you, Kaleb, and when I do, you shall see who is in control of the Undergound. You'll see soon enough. 


	23. Chapter 22: Ominous Premonitions

CHAPTER XXII: Ominous Premonitions  
  
Leah turned to face Isabelle and Vindar, slamming and locking the chamber door behind her. Soon after, angry voices grew to a pitch on the other side, fists banging on the thick wood. "I've had enough. We've got to do something, and quick. I'm the queen today, and I won't put up with this crap."  
  
"Looky here, a woman with some fire in her heart," Vindar quipped.  
  
"What do you want to do?" asked Isabelle.  
  
"It's pretty obvious that these crows hold a spell with them that causes everyone to go nutty, right? There's no way we're going to get any control over these guys, so I say we put as many of them in the dungeons as we can. I'm sure there are a few people yet who haven't been exposed, and maybe they could help us."  
  
Vindar's face lit up. "Even better, we could break into the magic room and find some spells of our own, teleportation, trapping, even temporary shape- shifting. Whatever we can find. This would keep us safe from their weapons until we could move them to the dungeons."  
  
"I know what places to look for help... We could give out crystals to a few to help out, so we could speed up the process," Isabelle offered.  
  
Leah had to shout over the loud voices behind, "Don't they know these doors are bound by magic and unbreakable?" She turned to the door and shouted, "Could you please keep it down!?" Surprisingly, the attackers became silent at her intimidating voice. She turned to face them again, pacing the area in front of them. "I think you both have some good ideas," she continued, "and we definitely need to regain control of the kingdom as soon as possible. From the first, we need to let Kaleb know that he's not going to manipulate us that easily. Our second matter of business is to get Sage's plan for disabling the crows into commission. It doesn't seem like there are any new swarms of birds headed our way, so we should be able to work with the ones that are already here. And, once we have a few of our current instigators in the dungeons, we can also make sure that we take care of their loopiness, as well."  
  
Vindar rubbed his sharp cheeks as he switched the topic to more somber matters. "You know, before this all broke out, Hoggle's dad was in a pretty bad lot. We need to find him and see what we can do. I think everyone forgot him in the chaos."  
  
Leah sighed. "Yeah, you're right. But I don't know what we can do. I have a sneaking suspicion that there would have been some tragedy in this day, regardless of whether or not Kaleb pulled his tricks."  
  
The face of the young Isabelle flushed as she wrung her hands. "Oh, poor Hoggle!"  
  
"You go find him Isabelle, while we get the ball rolling on the plan. Go through the secret passageways to make sure you don't get into any trouble," Leah said while she pushed back a piece of wall in their current location to reveal a dark hallway.  
  
"Okay. I sure hope he's alright."  
  
  
  
"No you're not! Look'ere, I ain't gonna let you give up! What kinda nonsense talk is that?" Hoggle pulled the covers closer up to his father's neck as he nervously eyed the barred door over his shoulder. "We're gonna needs your 'elp! You can't leave us when you gots a chance to prove how smart you are! You'd never miss a chance to lord over everyone."  
  
"Oh, shut your trap, boy. You too busy talking, don't know what you're sayin'. I'm too tired, I don' wanna help no one. You kin handle yerselves. Good sleep is callin' me. I spent too many nights up late, writin' and writin' for everyone else, but now I needs to sleep. Shuddup and let me!"  
  
Hoggle's mother stepped in and put a comforting hand over the bulge in the blanket where Hoggle Senior's hand lay. "Look now, hun, don't hassle 'im. Remember our pact? You know this is gonna be hard on 'im, let 'im be."  
  
"Aw, he's a young lad yet, he kin handle it, he's got..." Hoggle Senior quickly broke into profuse coughing.  
  
Hoggle ignored his father's obvious pain and demanded, "What're you talkin' about? What pact? You tell me, I don' like surprises."  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury wrung her hands and gave her husband a long careful glance before she looked back at her son. "We never told you 'bout this, Son, but we made a pact with the aid of a sorcerer saying that we would go to the afterworld together. The sorcerer sealed the pact with a spell."  
  
"What're you sayin'?" Hoggle demanded, shaking more with each moment.  
  
"If one of us passes to the other realm, the other will, too." She was somber as she gazed at her troubled boy.  
  
Hoggle took a moment to find his tongue. "I don' believe it! You're just pullin' my leg. Now that's enough, yous better get better, Pops, these jokes ain't doin' no good for my health."  
  
"Son, she's tellin' ya true," Mr. Hiddlebury said with drooping eyelids. It was obvious that his fire was dimming with each moment.  
  
Hoggle broke out into a rage and stormed around the room. "How could ya do this to me!? To yer son! Not only I got to lose my dad right when his stubborn will is gonna let me back inside his home, but now I gotsta lose my Mum, who's healthy as a steed, and could be here to console me?" He turned around. His father's figure lay limp in the bed, gradually disappearing into another realm, whilst his mother remained, a wan smile on her face. "He didn't get a chance to tell you, my good boy, but he loves you, and so do I. I'm sorry that this will be so hard for you, but at least know yer father's not alone in his journey. We will be watchin' over you. We're proud of you."  
  
With her last breath, she said, "Good-bye my little Hoggle."  
  
Hoggle stared with his mouth agape and the empty bed before him. It was like a tragic and sudden car crash. And where were his friends? He needed Sarah more than ever, to cry in the arms of the only friend to which he would allow himself to show his tears.  
  
All alone, he fell onto his knees, clutching the blanket under which his father once lay, sobbing wildly into its plush, feathery depths. "Oh, Papa, Mum... I'm gonna miss you! And my last words were harsh. How could I? How could I 'ave known? Why didn' you tell me? Oh, damn you, Hoggle..."  
  
Trees of all types were fashioned in eloquent patterns, leading to various gardens of purple and burgundy flowers, dark leaves heralding an age of wing. The dark shadows of birds flittered throughout the large room, sometimes aimlessly from tree to tree, sometimes to feed from the various bowls of seed throughout the room. The birds numbered in the thousands, and most of them consisted of crows and ravens.  
  
The dark beauty of the room was enchanting, but Sarah was not here for pleasure. Peeking from behind the leaves of a birch tree, she watched as Kaleb worked at an ornate wooden desk, doing more thoughtful brooding than writing. On the desk sat the assembled pieces of the amethyst, glowing from within with a reddish light. Many iron-wrought bookshelves lined his little haven in the aviary, between which sat a strange scrying device which bore intricate designs in silver.  
  
Kaleb did not see the spying Sarah due to the fact that she had cleverly transformed herself into an easily-concealed dove. After surveying the surroundings, she quietly flew to a tree nearer the scrying device to watch the images that flashed through its depths.  
  
Within she saw images of the various kingdoms engaged in civil war as well as war abroad. It seemed as if Kaleb definitely had his grip on the seven kingdoms of the great council, with a great potential for gaining a foothold on several more. She wasn't exactly sure what his plan was, but she had an inkling. It was too bad that he was such a small thinker and so limited by power and circumstances.  
  
He pulled out a pocketwatch, and, upon considering the time he rose from his chair in preparation for an exit. "She should be ready by now," he mumbled.  
  
Not as aware as you would like to seem, Kaleb. She took wing and flew back to her current chambers, where she knew he would soon seek her out. As she felt the cool chill of the wind under her temporary feathers, a thought came to mind. He wants to use me to rule the Underground. But I will use him... to rule it all. Perhaps New York is finally ready for my arrival.  
  
Once they had become clear of the Labyrinth, it didn't take Sage long to summon the remaining Spangores in the birds' kingdom atop the tall Shadow Mountains. A few had remained clear of the crows, which were too small in frame to be able to fly over the high windy peaks of the mountain, therefore saving them from the negative effects of the small birds' magic. With a little crafty maneuvering and a lot of risk, the kings and queens of the various kingdoms were dropped off at their respective palaces to begin preparations for the coming resistance and to take stock of the damage that had been done.  
  
Sage was very happy that they hadn't had to continue the journey on foot. As the Fieries weren't much for keeping a granary and the Felines did not eat grains, Benedick and the fiery Eepwot joined Sage in his journey to the elfin kingdom. The small band snuck in through the palace windows, as the doors had been heavily fortified. Their Spangore, Jinga let them down softly upon the throne room floor, where they stepped down, greeted immediately by the few sane elves in the kingdom.  
  
As Sage was making his greetings to a group of very happy elves who had assumed their rescue was around the corner, a tall elf pushed his way through the crowd to grasp Sage. "Sage! My old friend! Oh, thank the stars you are here!"  
  
"Mandelbrot? Is that you? It joys me to see a familiar elfin face greet me with such happiness. I thought I was an enemy to all who knew me."  
  
"Not all, my friend." He pushed his red hair behind his ears and bent over to whisper to Sage, "Some of us remember what our kingdom could have been had the fools not kept you from being king."  
  
Sage turned to his two traveling companions to introduce the elf. "This is Mandelbrot, advisor and sorcerer to the king who is currently betraying everyone. Which makes me inclined to believe Eberon listens to none of his advice."  
  
"Oh, Sage, if only you knew how right you are." He looked up the the questioning crowd of elves in the throne room and said, "This is just an old friend come to lend us a hand. Would some of you mind preparing a meal for him and his escorts, as well as a room? Do not worry my friends, all will be well. We must continue on with affairs as usual until a solution comes to light."  
  
They trusted in his judgment and went to other affairs to leave Mandelbrot and his arrivals to themselves. "So, Sage," Mandelbrot said in hushed tones, "please tell me that you and your friends have indeed come to lend a hand, to get us out of this wretched plight that our king has brought upon us?"  
  
"You know that it is Eberon, then?" Sage queried as Mandelbrot led them through the dining hall and into a smaller eating chamber next to the kitchen.  
  
"I do. None of the remaining sane ones among us are aware, though. I have kept it hidden. I have kept much hidden, at least for now, to keep it calm. Until the right time. Then I will reveal all." Mandelbrot took a pitcher of wine and glasses from the servant elf as she handed them to him, and placed them on the table before the group, indicating for everyone to sit. "Thank you, Gella," he said to the girl. She nodded and went to the kitchen to finish preparing a meal.  
  
"I understand. Yes, we are here to do what we can," Sage said.  
  
"We've got a plan, dear chap," offered Benedick.  
  
"You have introduced me, but not your friends..." Mandelbrot said.  
  
"Benedick," the cat said as he stuck his paw out for a good shake.  
  
"I'm Eepwot," the fiery said as he pointed lazily to his chest. "This good feller's Jinga of the Spangores, gave us a nice ride down 'ere." Jinga nodded and smiled as he perched near the table.  
  
"Nice to meet you all," Mandelbrot said with a nod of his head. "Now, what is this plan?"  
  
"Well, it's going to take a little time, but it's the only thing I can think of, so we're going to run with it. We need you to harvest as much corn and grain as you can."  
  
Mandelbrot seemed already to understand. "Genius. Then you will enchant it and spread it about for the crows to eat? Tis a grand idea. The only way to counteract the spell that was originally cast upon them and use them to reverse the effects."  
  
"You catch on quickly," Benedick exclaimed.  
  
"Well, you have to be quick in my line of work. Or should I say our line of work, eh Sage? Congratulations on becoming advisor to Queen Sarah. You really deserve to be king, but I am sure she has a fine and more kinder kingdom at your beck. How is your son, Vindar?"  
  
"He is well. Currently he is at the castle trying to bring some calm to Sunset City, hopefully not distracted by love." He and Benedick chuckled at this statement.  
  
"Uh oh, courting a young lady?" Mandelbrot declared.  
  
"Yes, a young woman named Isabelle. She's a lovely lass, comes from the valleys of the Shadow Mountains. I am very proud of both of them."  
  
"She is human, then? It is very wonderful to see that Queen Sarah has a much more open kingdom than we do here. Love is love, no matter what race you are."  
  
Sage, saddened by his statement, replied, "Yes. Yes it is."  
  
A young male elf came into the kitchen and whispered into Mandelbrot's ear. Mandelbrot nodded his head and told the elf, "Very good. I need you to get Simeon, the harvester. Tell him to gather all the grains from the granaries and to do his best to harvest all the corn and grains he can. We'll take advantage of this lull time to put a plan into action. Do what the last two did to avoid the crows' spell."  
  
After the elf male left, Sage asked, "Is there news?"  
  
"Yes. It looks as if our people have become so worn out from fighting that many have just collapsed to sleep. There are very few remaining awake enough to fight. It is very strange, few have been killed so far in these battles. I haven't been able to risk seeing the wounded first hand, but I suspect that there is something in these spells causing fast healing to occur, else we would have many more dead. This is all an elaborate ploy to cause chaos, Sage, I can almost assure you. There is something quite different at stake. These are suddenly dark times, Sage, but I have met with the prophets, and they tell of a far darker future. It's really unfathomable. New magic coming into our world, with limitless destructive power."  
  
Sage pinched the hairs of his goatee thoughtfully. "More bad news, that's all we need. Well, all we can do is play along and do what we can. I'm certain we'll come out on top in the long run. Or at least I hope so."  
  
Their food arrived in short order, and they ate ravenously. The break of dawn would soon approach, and weary eyes and hearts made way for a barely restful slumber.  
  
Sage barely slept at all, dreaming of a love long lost at the hands of a foolish foe...  
  
  
  
Jareth and Marlena stayed up most of the night talking whilst Rattlebeak and Toby slept, Sir Didymus slouched in a corner asleep, a result of his failed and needless attempts at staying on guard for the night.  
  
"So, you're quest is to save your lady love from a dark stranger in a foreign land. Sadly, this man is also part of yourself, so you must have aid in the form of this young boy to help you destroy him without destroying yourself. This is really fascinating, you know, to hear first hand of other realms. You are very lucky to live in such a place, do you know?" Marlena's face was lit up in the warm lamp-glow of the last flames while her eyes stared off dreamily in an attempt to conjure up images of the Underground.  
  
"It seems very commonplace to me. But, as a boy and a man, I would look into this realm and see how often people here dreamt of being a part of worlds like mine. It taught me a bit of appreciation for my world, even in the difficult times. Maybe that is why I loved Sarah so, she was completely immersed in my world in particular, while it had become so commonplace to me. She sparked a bit of magic into my life that I was never able to extinguish." He brushed his fingers through his hair and let out a small laugh. "You know, it's funny, I can talk to you better than anyone, excepting my companion Granen."  
  
"It's because I don't have any preconceived notions of you, I would suppose. It seems to me that everyone has already made their opinion of you, even your love." Marlena cut down to the harsh truth with an amazing gentleness. "But, if you remain in your current efforts to be seen as who you truly are, it won't be long before your world changes, I am sure of that."  
  
"Well, thank you. It is a comforting thought. You really don't sound as if you belong to this world, Marlena. Where are you from?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't remember much about my youth or my life as a young adult. I was found in the forest in a coma at the age of twenty-three. I lived in a mental hospital for some time before I was able to live in the everyday world. I had to be trained on how to support myself. Even then, I eventually went against all my teachings and put this shop together. I've been very successful. I watch shows about the unexplainable religiously, and did throughout my time in the hospital. I think something profound happened to me in those woods, and that is where I acquired my magical abilities. They are rare here, perhaps more due to people's limited viewpoints more than limited abilities. Very few people here would believe magic if it poofed out of nowhere right in front of their eyes!" She chuckled at the thought. "Though, we do have our share of lovely loonies here in New York. I think they are the ones who breathe true life into this city. There would be no sanity if it weren't for their insanity."  
  
"Very well said." Jareth wore an expression of true appreciation. The conversation had put him at ease in this land of strange wonders. "I wonder what we are going to do about our little set of loonies. We are supposed to find the house of Sarah's... erm, twin I suppose you would call her. She has an enchanted mirror that will take us back to the Underground to perform our duties there. We thought Toby would be near her home and we would quickly be able to retrieve him, but, as you can see, things haven't gone according to plan."  
  
"I don't know what to tell you. I doubt he is powerful enough to fly you back with him, and you both need to be there for the spell. Which means you need to get some money together to either take a bus or fly on a plane to the city, if it is a long distance. You'll never make it on foot in time. I don't have any money I could give you right now, but I should be able to afford a little bit in a couple of days. If you can wait, I'll spare what I can. In the meantime, you can stay here. My rooms are upstairs, and I have a fairly large extra room that you can all stay in. I wish I had a spell strong enough to help you, but, as you can see, I only now know of the existence of your world, which would indicate that I have a great deal more to learn."  
  
"You are very hospitable. We really appreciate your kindness. We are also at your disposal until you acquire the money, and we will be sure to compensate you. You could come with us, and stay. I think you would fit in very well."  
  
"That is a lovely idea." She sighed at the thought. "I may very well take you up on that offer." She rose from the couch and eyed Toby's sleeping form. "Until then, I suppose we should be getting you guys off to bed. It's been a long night for you."  
  
"Yes it has. But, it would have been much longer had not chance brought you across our path."  
  
"I don't know," she answered as she gazed upon Toby as she gingerly picked him up. "I don't think it was chance." 


	24. Chapter 23: Separations

CHAPTER XXIII: Separation  
  
Granen pushed his way through the foliage in an effort to find the source of the voice calling for help. Now my subconscious has come alive... No way anyone could be in my dream world. This be gettin' stranger all the time.  
  
The misty green-grey surrounded him, dust motes shimmering in silver air. The rustling of the leaves as he brushed them sounded like tinkling metal. Beyond a wall of maple leaves he found the one in need of help. In a tattered white gown she sat feebly in the clearing, her eerie bright green eyes like emeralds shifting in the light. She looked up at him with an expression of otherworldly innocence, and he would have sworn she was a fae if he didn't already know her as the queen of Sunset City.  
  
"Sarah? Lass, whatcha be doin' in Jareth's paintin'? Blimey, if he's done this to get you in his grips, then I musta had no true notion of how desperate he was to 'ave you. You bein' alright Lady?"  
  
"Where... where am I?" she stammered. "Where did I come from?"  
  
"I can't answer that second part for ya, and, frankly, I don' think I can answer the first part, either. I don' really know where we are meself. I just know I stepped through one'a Jareth's paintin's, and here I am. A dismal place this be, but your company I am sure will alleviate that." He reached down and helped her up, putting her left arm round his shoulders so that he might prop her up in her dizzied state. "C'mon over here, Lass, sit down on this log. You look 'orrible, like you been dragged through the ringer. You sure you can't remember what happened?"  
  
Sarah looked into the distance and struggled for an inkling of what came before her present state. "No..." When she turned to gaze at Granen, remembrance flashed in her fae eyes, causing the man to shiver visibly, his face blushing red, like he had been utterly exposed. "Wait," she said, breaking his stupor. "I do remember. I was in Kaleb's castle, and I looked into a kind of mirror... And..." She looked horribly disturbed by the next idea.  
  
"What is it?" Kaleb asked in dread.  
  
"It... it was an awful feeling. Like I was being separated from myself. I feel strange. Like I'm free, like all the dark parts came away."  
  
"Why do ya look so upset if you feel free?" Kaleb asked in confusion.  
  
"Because I'm not who I am. I'm alone. Out of balance, I guess." She paused as it sunk in. "I'm alone." She looked away idly, contemplating the thought gravely.  
  
"Now don' be silly, Love. I'm here."  
  
"No," she said, still staring in the distance. "That's not what I mean. I'm alone inside. Vulnerable. I don' know how to protect myself. But I can't tell you how... or what it is I mean. I can't explain. It's just awful."  
  
"Well, I'll protect you, Love. Don' you worry, Granen's 'ere, and there's no one I can't cut down with my sharp wit." He gave her a becoming grin, to which she responded in kind.  
  
"That's nice of you."  
  
"Ah, think nothin' of it." He looked into the hazy, shifting colors in the distance and said, "If you're feelin' up to it, you might help me figure out how we can get ourselves out of this mess."  
  
"Yeah, I feel better," she answered. "Well enough, anyhow. Where do you suppose we are? I doubt Kaleb would have sent me into one of Jareth's paintings, no matter how cruel his sense of irony is."  
  
"We've got to be somewhere in the Underground. Doesn't look like anyplace I've been to, though," Granen said.  
  
Sarah rose and brushed herself off. "You know, it kind of reminds me of the Mist of Dreams. I mean, I've never been there, but it sounds like the legends."  
  
"Oh, don't be sayin' things like that," Granen replied with a chill.  
  
"Why? What did I say?"  
  
Granen started them off in a random direction. "If you know that much about the Mists, you probably also 'eard that no one comes out of the Mists, either. Now, if you end up in a fantasy land of yer making, then that would be a grand vacation, but, if you end up in a nightmare of yer making, you're really done for. And I don' think many folks end up with lovely dreams."  
  
"Maybe it all depends on the circumstances," Sarah replied. "I don't know, if we are in the Mists, I don't feel so worried. I feel like we can get ourselves out. I don't think there's any puzzle you can't solve if you try hard enough. It may take us a little while..." She drifted off suddenly with a hazy gaze into the impressionistic forest. Granen broke the silence. "You, uh, realize that your eyes have changed colors, eh?"  
  
"Really?" she answered in surprise. "What color are they?"  
  
"Bright green, like me mother's," Granen answered. "Actually, no. Not like me mother's. They're brighter. Like a river in sunlight."  
  
"You are a flatterer too, huh?"  
  
"What, me? 'Course I am. Why you think Jareth keeps company with me?" He chuckled lightly, but quickly sobered. "But for once I don't be flatterin', Love. Your eyes aren't becoming of a lady. They are becoming more of a faery. An' trust me, I know enough faeries to say for sure I'm not lyin' to ya."  
  
"How strange," she answered. "Kind of like Jareth."  
  
"What do ya mean?" Understandly flashed across his face. "Oh, yes, his eyes are green, too."  
  
She shook her head. "But they didn't use to be. More often than not, they were blue. But, now that he is back, they're green."  
  
"More often than not?" he asked. "You make it sound like his eyes had multiple personalities."  
  
"They did. So did he. Whenever he was kind, his eyes turned green. When cruel, they were icy blue. At least, that's how it was four years ago. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his shadow was living inside of him."  
  
"Ah, so he's told you about that, has'e?"  
  
"Yes. Though I found it hard to believe him at first. But, the more I think about it, the more I realize how he must have been struggling inside. That's why his behavior was so erratic." She sighed heartily. "Poor man."  
  
Granen gave her a curious look out of the corner of his eye. "You seem awfully sympathetic. Jareth was convinced you would be as willing to forgive him as rain in a firestorm."  
  
"Hmm. I wasn't willing to forgive him. I don't know, I feel very different about it right now. I have no hurtful feelings toward him at all. I just wonder why he left." She was quiet a moment, then added, "You know, there is something really wrong, because I hated him not two hours ago."  
  
"I'm sure that from his perspective he'd be seein' this as a good turn of affairs," Granen answered with a laugh. "Maybe it has something to do with what Kaleb did to you. Though I can't see why he'd instill you with feelin's of love an' 'appiness, then send you to the Mist of Dreams. I just don' see where he might be goin' with this plan."  
  
"I don't know, maybe I'll remember something that will give us a clue."  
  
"You keep tryin' to figure it out. Ya never know, you might find it's connected to how we'll be getting' outta 'ere."  
  
"Tell me, Granen, why did Jareth leave me four years ago? When we were together, when I got the amethyst, he seemed to have changed completely. He swore he loved me and meant no harm. He must have been freed from his shadow by that point. Then he gave me the kingdom..." She looked frustrated all of a sudden. "But I really only wanted to share it with him, deep down!" she exclaimed. "I was still young then, most of it was just attraction... but through the past four years I can truly say I think that we were soulmates, somehow. I mean, I honestly never really got to know him that well, and had seen little kindness from him. But there was a connection. I even felt it with him once he revealed himself after the contest through the Labyrinth earlier. And I know he must have felt it too. Why did he leave then? We had such a good chance!"  
  
Granen shook his head somberly. "Ah, Lass, things are always more difficult than we can see on the outside. Just think of what he was going through. For more years than you can imagine, he had been coexisting and being controlled by a force that lived inside himself. When you came into his life the first time, he began to realize how disgusted he was with the turn his life had taken, and he slowly allowed himself to become fully aware of what was inside of him. As he did this, the shadow took stronger means to control 'im... This is probably what you saw those four years ago, when he seemed torn in his emotions. Once he rid himself of the beast, whatcha be thinkin' was goin' through 'is 'ead? He didn' know who'e was... How could'e truly share'is love with you if he wasn't sure what he was sharin'? And how could he think you would understand at that moment?"  
  
"I would've understood," Sarah said quietly.  
  
"Ah, but it was more'n that to 'im. He didn' wanna take away your chance to live in your dreams, to enjoy your youth. Trust me, he 'ad many demons to battle, I been with 'im through it the past three years. It was an all out war in 'is soul. I think 'e did the right thing, for better or worse. It takes a strong man to take such an effort to face the darkness within 'imself, 'specially as deliberately as Jareth did. And he did it for you. Don' you ever be forgettin' that."  
  
Sarah was amazingly quiet throughout Granen's narrative. All she could say was, "Thank you for explaining it all to me."  
  
"You're welcome, Lass. Glad I could 'elp."  
  
  
  
Isabelle pushed back the secret passageway to Hoggle Senior's chambers to find an empty room. "That's curious," she said. "Where could they have gone?"  
  
The candles had nearly burned down to nothing by now. Determined to figure out where the Hiddleburys were, she left the room, and took a torch from the wall to use for light and protection, just in case any crazy critters crossed her path.  
  
"Okay," she said quietly and nervously, "n-now don't anyone come near me, I'm dangerous." She thought about that a moment, then decided to grab a second torch. "Yeah," she said a little more firmly, as if trying to instill confidence in herself. "I - AM - DANGEROUS. Remember that. Make it real, Isabelle. Me. Isabelle. What does that spell? DANGEROUS. Right, ok, I got it."  
  
She didn't really seem completely convinced, but she did put forth an effort. Timidly she inched past corners in search for Hoggle and his family, but it wasn't long before she found the dwarf.  
  
He startled her as he bumped awkwardly into her while she was coming aruond a corner near his quarters. She didn't realize it was him at first, so she flailed about madly for a few moments, making her torch weapons instantly known. "Stay... stay away from me, I don't want to have to -" She stopped when she realized she had bumped into a very drunk Hoggle. "Oh, Hoggle, it's you! You nearly scared my head right off my shoulders! What on earth are you doing? Are you drunk?"  
  
He began swaying his bottle of bourbon as if it were an instrument for public speaking, and kept on walking past her whilst he babbled, "Shoulda wrote that book! But the damned fieries, blast them, told me to party with them, and what do you know, I get stuck with that old rat. But it ain't my fault only, I done made nothin' of meself... Oh, 'Oggle, what'ave you done?" He let out a large belch as he continued on his way, leaving a baffled and speechless Isabelle in his wake. "But the roses smell nice, that they do."  
  
Isabelle finally regained her senses and caught up to him. "Hoggle, where are your parents? How could you leave them at a time like this?"  
  
"Oh, you'll have to ask them where they gone... Left no evidence, did they, that they even lived, 'Cept poor, poor 'Oggle. Yup, an' this, me dad's bourbon. Could always count on this old friend, 'e could."  
  
"What are you talking about, Hoggle?" Isabelle demanded. "Why would they leave? Your father was in horrible condition. Did someone do something to them?"  
  
He stopped and gave her a good stern look, as much as his drunkenness would allow. "No, they're gone, for good. Me dad's gone, now me mother. She took herself with him to the grave. Now there's just good ole 'Oggle, oh yes, 'Oggle's one to trudge on through the misery'e is. Watch me trudge." And turn around and continue his trudge he did.  
  
Isabelle grabbed his shoulders and cried, "Oh, Hoggle, I'm so sorry! Come on, let's go sit..."  
  
Hoggle brushed her off. "I's don' wanna sit nowheres. I wanna crawl in a hole an watch bugs. I wanna be alone."  
  
"I understand that Hoggle," Isabelle pleaded, "but you don't need to be alone at a time like this. You need to be with your friends."  
  
"Who're yous to tell me what I need? Go away!" He brushed her aside and continued on.  
  
Torn between letting him be alone and wanting to help, Isabelle stood stunned for a second. She finally made the decision and ran in front of him. After he tried to evade her halfheartedly, she crouched down and looked at him intensely. "Hoggle," she said softly.  
  
In a matter of moments he had burst into tears. She held him close, his tears drenching the shoulder of her dress. After he had cried for some time, she took his hand.  
  
"Come Hoggle. Sleep now, and tomorrow will take care of itself." He merely nodded as she led him to his room. "Get comfortable. I'll be back in a moment."  
  
Isabelle made her way to the infirmary without trouble, and took some herbs from a jar. She crushed them in a mortar, then made a cup of tea out of the herbs and other tea leaves. Luckily, the infirmary constantly had a pot of boiling water over the fireplace, so it was a quick task.  
  
She quickly returned with the tea, to find Hoggle in his nightclothes, still shivering from having cried so hard. She handed him the tea. He took it without argument once he had climbed into his bed. After a couple of sips of it, he fell straight to sleep.  
  
"That'll do it every time," she said with a slight smile. She sat a few moments with the sleeping Hoggle and gazed upon him with great affection. "Poor dear." Reluctantly allowing herself to reacquaint herself with the current state of affairs in the castle, she finally got up. She kissed the dwarf on the cheek before taking one last glance at him from the doorway. "We'll all miss you Mr. And Mrs. Hiddlebury. You raised a fine son."  
  
Having taken the room's key from Hoggle's bedside table, she locked the door behind her for the sake of precaution. "Just wait, Hoggle, it will get better. Slowly." She pondered the thought, as if she knew firsthand.  
  
"Very slowly... But it will get better. It has to, else there'd be nothing worthwhile in living."  
  
  
  
Leah straightened her wig before going out into the somewhat mangled throne room. Thankfully she and Vindar had found enough sane minions to take care of matters whilst they regained control on a diplomatic level. She sauntered up to the throne and was greeted by a throng of loudly-mumbling creatures.  
  
"Excuse me," she said in a mild tone she thought Sarah would hold, "but I need your attention." That sounded like her, right? she asked herself.  
  
The throng continued to chatter aimlessly, unaware of her presence. The chaos had certainly stirred them all up.  
  
"EVERYONE SHUT UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!" she screamed. Dead silence followed.  
  
"Thank you kindly," she added sweetly. "Now that I have your attention, I need to make a few announcements. First of all, I want to make it perfectly clear that we will not tolerate any further actions from the elves. Maybe these guys are a little doped up on crow, but I don't give a damn. Sorry guys, nothing against you, but until this is all over, I hate elves. So elves go in the dungeon. Got that?"  
  
Everyone nodded in understanding.  
  
"Very good. I think I'm beginning to like this."  
  
They looked confused by the last statement.  
  
Leah shook her head, saying, "Forget that last part. Just keep looking interested. Now, as I was saying... The only way we're going to get control over things is to use magic. Anyone interested in joining the efforts to calm down some of these kooky kids, talk to Vindar after I finish, and he'll show you what to do. Everyone else has another equally fascinating, great, and life-fulfilling job to do. I need the rest of you to pick corn. Yes, you heard me correctly, corn is our new best friend. Now, now, I don't want to hear a peep from you kids who didn't want to eat your corn. It's corn or crazies, those are your choices. I want to regain control over all of our domain, up to the edge of the Labyrinth, does everyone got that? Don't take lip from no one. They give you trouble, you get a little of Vindar's magic dust and blow it on them, like this..." Taking some of the dust from her hand, she blew some into the face of a nearby human male. He was knocked out instantly and fell down rather ungracefully. "See? Now he wasn't too smart, was he? Gotta be a little quicker on your toes than this guy. Someone take care of him please?"  
  
Another human male complied, his expression of confusion over his queen's current flippancy being quite in accordance with the expressions of all the individuals in the throng.  
  
"Alright, so everyone up and at'em. I want control back by tomorrow evening! We can't let that bastard Kaleb think he's got the one-up on us, no sir! So go get'em tigers!"  
  
Everyone hurried towards their duties with little excitement.  
  
"And you all get to sleep when we're done!" Leah added.  
  
A heartfelt excitement suddenly filled the room as they finished filtering out.  
  
Leah walked away from the throne, pulling her wig off without concern as to who might be watching. Isabelle walked in somberly. "Oh, good, there you are. Vindar told me I'd find you here."  
  
"Hey. How is Hoggle?"  
  
"Pretty bad. His father did die this evening. And I think his mother took her life too, from what I could interpret from Hoggle's rambling. He was pretty drunk when I found him."  
  
"Oh heavens. Why all this crap?" Leah shook her head. "Poor Hoggle. Where is he?"  
  
"He's in his room sleeping. I gave him a little Ulgher Root. Knocked him right out. I expect he'll sleep through the day tomorrow, or so I hope. It won't put off the darkness for good, but sleep always helps in times like this. And there's no way you can get to sleep on your own, I should know. So many thoughts going through your head.... What you could've done differently, how you would have been better..." She smiled wanly and stopped herself. "Sorry, I'm ranting."  
  
"Not at all. Sounds like you have some personal experiences rehashing themselves," Leah said with concern.  
  
"Yeah, I guess I do. My mother died last year. Jareth took me away from her about six years ago, or really, from my father. Father beat me and my mother."  
  
"I know. We were in your village right before Sarah became queen. We could see what your father had done to your mother." She put her hand on Isabelle's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I haven't been around. I didn't know your mother had passed away. Didn't Sarah bring her to the kingdom to live with you?"  
  
"Yeah, right after you went Aboveground to live. She was happy to be with me, but she was never her old self again. I'm sure she died of heartbreak. She hadn't had much kindness in life, and only trusted me, though I think she still blamed me a little bit for having left. Or, rather, being taken away. Like, in her mind, I should have come back. But I couldn't. How could I come back to that life? She should have left. She should have loved herself enough to do it." A tear welled up in her eye. "I still blame myself sometimes, I can't help it. Like I should have stayed, should have stayed by her side through it all."  
  
Leah squeezed her shoulder. "Oh, hun, I don't have to tell you this, because you already know it... But you shouldn't let yourself feel any blame. It was her choice to let her darkness eat her up inside."  
  
Isabelle nodded and wiped a tear. "I'm sorry. Just, Hoggle's parents' passing away kinda brings back all the feelings I had when my mother died."  
  
Leah pulled her close with an arm round the girl's shoulder and rubbed her head against Isabelle's affectionately. "Don't you even worry about it. Nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes we just gotta renew our tears. The sadness builds up. Any excuse is a good one to let the tears go. Then we can renew our vows to live life to its fullest."  
  
"Awfully sagely of you," Isabelle said with a tearful chuckle.  
  
Leah brushed it off with a slight laugh. "Ah, I have my moments. But now I'm afraid it's time to go back to ass-whooping Leah mode."  
  
"I'd expect nothing less," Isabelle answered, squeezing Leah's shoulder in return.  
  
"How's about we get some shut-eye? I think Vindar's got things under control for the time being, and we have a very long day ahead of ourselves tomorrow. The castle's fortified enough for now. What do you say?"  
  
"I'm all for it," the girl answered. "Let's stay in a room together, though, just in case?" she asked nervously.  
  
"Your room or mine?" Leah answered, laughing. "Wait, that didn't sound right, did it?" 


	25. Chapter 24: Bewitched

CHAPTER XXIV: Bewitched  
  
Jareth awoke the next morning with the most frightful headache. He sat up in the bed and looked around, trying to dredge from his mind the remnants of a very disturbing dream. Head couched in the large pillow of Marlena's design, he sleepily surveyed his surroundings. Everything within the room had the handmade look of gypsy -- dyed fabrics, beadwork, and elegant hand- woven tapestry. It made him homesick in a strange sort of way. He longed for the gentle touch of a woman to all affairs of his life, and often fantasized about he and Sarah in a simple home, him chopping wood outside whilst she wove indoors. He could see her face, gentle in the mote-filled air and sunshine, engaged in her task. He knew Sarah was not a traditional woman, nor he a traditional man, and he truly did not wish them to be anything other than they were. But a dream of a happy domestic life calmed his soul at times. Times like this, when horrible nightmares haunted his mind in the depths of uneasy sleep.  
  
Toby lay on a makeshift bed on the floor, still comfortably snoozing. One would assume that current events would make the boy too restless for a full night's sleep, but it was equally likely that he was exhausted by events and more than ready to drown his weariness in slumber. Jareth pulled the covers off gently and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the boy with a heartfelt smile. "I once wanted you to be my own son," he whispered. "You're such a good lad. I'd be your uncle any day." Toby was still asleep, but a slight smile tugged at his lips with these words, as if he had subconsciously heard Jareth's compliment. The man smiled widely at this, gently tucked the boy in and kissed his forehead before leaving the room.  
  
Once he arrived downstairs, he was greeted by a relatively busy room. Five customers were browsing about Marlena's store, and she was chatting warmly with one of them, a brunette with wildly moused hair. "Ah, Jareth!" Marlena cried as she saw the man gingerly stepping down the stairs. Her face flushed at the site of him, as if she was secretly entranced by him and unable to hide her affection. She had had dreams too, of a much more pleasant nature. "Come over here, there's someone I'd like you to meet."  
  
He sauntered over, his white button-up tunic crinkled up and hanging over his loose pants. He was still a little sleepy-eyed, and it made him look more boyish. He yawned fitfully on his way to the counter, politely saying "excuse me" as he accidentally brushed another customer on the way over. She looked up at him with slyly seductive eyes, as if thankful for the contact. "Don't mention it," she whispered from scarlet-red lips. He held her green eyes for a few moments before gradually pulling away and continuing towards his strangely lengthening journey towards the barely far counter. For a second he thought she looked like Sarah. It was at this point that he finally became cognizant of the fact that all the customers in the store were women, and that they were all giving him appreciative glances from the corner of their eyes. They all possessed an element of the mysterious, yet they seemed to be worshiping his greater sense of the unknown. As he looked away, their image flashed again in his mind, and they all became Sarah. Once he finally made it to the counter, he noticed that Marlena was chuckling at his obvious slavery to the captivating glances of the women in the store. He was a little shaken by the images of Sarah in his imagination, but he brushed it off quickly.  
  
Marlena introduced him to the girl between chuckles. "Jareth, I'd like you to meet Ashley. She's a good friend." Jareth began to shake her hand as he took her in. She had short hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, willfully mutated into a branchy beast through the help of mousse and pomade. She had small eyes that were carefully outlined with brown eyeliner and lids that were softly dusted in shades of gold and brown. Even her dress was a ragtag conglomeration of various items that somehow came together into an aesthetic look. Her voice was raspy and boyish, accentuating her wild rabbit attractiveness. He was taken aback when, instead of shaking her hand, she began to examine his manicure. "Nice nails. Never see guys who take care of their hands like this. You're not gay, are you?"  
  
He cleared his throat in surprise, and looked a bit uncomfortably at Marlena for a second before returning his gaze to Ashley. "Er, I am fairly happy, but, no, I don't..."  
  
Marlena interrupted him with a laugh. "Of course not, Ashley, what kind of question is that? I'm surprised he even knows what that means."  
  
"Well, I, um, keep in touch with current affairs of the, erm, area. I'm not a total country bumpkin." He smiled despite his unease, and turned back to Ashely. "It's nice to meet you, Ashley."  
  
"Nice to meet ya too," she said buoyantly, releasing grasp of his hand. "Especially since Marly's done nothin' but talk 'bout you all mornin'. Like New York so far? Lotsa Brits round here, can't say I've seen one quite like you, though." She turned to look at Marlena and said, "Even his hair is perfect. Damn, you were right, he is sexy." She bent over to whisper, just so Jareth could still hear, "And you say he spent the night... Did you, -- you know... do it?"  
  
"Ashley!" Marlena blushed red and playfully shoved her friend. "Quit embarrassing me!"  
  
"Ah, you know I'm just playin' with ya," the girl said with a mischievous smile. "Jareth's a cool guy, he's ok with it. I'm sure he's lovin' the attention. He looks like the kinda guy who would." She winked at him. "Here, I'll be right back, gotta find some Valerian root real quick." She walked to the other side of the store and started whispering with one of the other women. They occasionally glanced at Jareth and suppressed laughs.  
  
"Sorry about that," Marlena said. "She's really funny, but sometimes I think she's lacking in social skills."  
  
"No trouble, really. She does seem like a fine girl," Jareth answered.  
  
Suddenly a furry head popped up from behind the counter. It was Sir Didymus. "Sir, I understand our agreement of last eve, but may I please refrain from hiding? I cannot do my Knightly duty if I must obscure myself from potential enemies."  
  
"Didymus!" Jareth exclaimed in a loud whisper. "Please, return to the kitchen. I cannot possibly convince you of how important it is that you stay hidden, can I?"  
  
Didymus worked his jaw about a bit and finally said, "Um, no."  
  
Jareth sighed in exasperation.  
  
Marlena smiled and said, "Didymus, you may roam about the store if you like."  
  
"What?" Jareth said. "I don't understand why he could. Won't it frighten your customers away?"  
  
"No," Marlena replied with a wry smile. "They're all witches. From the same coven. Every one of them has a familiar. They're used to talking animals."  
  
"Are you sure that I am Aboveground?" Jareth asked.  
  
"Certain. You just found a more magical corner of the globe. Welcome to Marlena's Shop."  
  
"How enchanting," Jareth said with sincere amazement. Didymus hopped from behind the counter with excitement and began encircling the shop in a soldier-like fashion.  
  
The women stopped their perusal of the store, and one of them shouted, "Marlena! Where on earth did you get him? He's fantastic!"  
  
"He doesn't belong to me," Marlena replied. "He is the property of Jareth, my guest."  
  
Didymus stopped immediately and cleared his throat noisily before countering, "I belong to no one, dear ladies. I am a knight of the highest order, and I live a life of danger and solitude, protect the weak and innocent, and am quite an expert at guarding bridges. I answer to no one!"  
  
The women all chuckled warmly and another said, "Sir Didymus, you are a fine specimen, you are. Thanks for protecting us." Didymus saluted her and answered, "It is my pleasure, fair maiden." He then went back to his patrol.  
  
Ashley came over to the counter and said in a low whisper, "He looks like a muppet!"  
  
"Be nice, Ashley," Marlena said. "Don't let him hear you say things like that."  
  
"No, no, he's really cute." She looked up to Jareth. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you? I've never seen a familiar quite like him."  
  
"Trust me, he's a creature of his own making. I suppose, since you are of the sort who understand and appreciate magic, that it won't surprise you that I come from another land. There are many creatures there who are as unique as the animals on your world, and as proud of their individuality as any human."  
  
"Wow." Ashley looked stunned. "Can I marry him, Marlena? He's cute, he's into magic, and he's so totally British. You brought him here just for me, didn't you?"  
  
"You can't marry Jareth, I'm afraid," Marlena answered. "He's on a mission to save his true love from an evil sorcerer."  
  
Ashley propped her head up on the counter and stared at Jareth dreamily. "How romantic."  
  
"Trust me, it's not as pleasant an experience as stories make it out to be," Jareth replied.  
  
"Well, we're gonna do whatever we can to help," Marlena answered. "Come on, let me get some breakfast in you, and then Ashley will take you and Toby out on the town."  
  
"Thank you very kindly," Jareth answered. "I am at your mercy."  
  
As he followed her into the kitchen, Ashley followed from the rear and gave his toosh a firm squeeze. "You bet your bottom you are!"  
  
Instead of jumping at her goosing, Jareth kept walking calmly, a smirk on his face. "Careful at how familiar you get with me, you might live to regret it." Ashley laughed and said, "I knew you were the kind of guy who liked attention!"  
  
  
  
Soon Jareth had finished his breakfast, and pushed away from the table with a satisfied sigh. Ashley had left to finish her own duties in preparation for their day out, and Marlena had just stepped in from her maintenance of the shop. "Was it good?" she asked as she picked up his empty plate.  
  
"It was fantastic. Thank you for conjuring it up for me."  
  
She chuckled at his choice of words. "You're a comedian, too. Guess that means you're loosening up a bit." She walked to the sink to wash the plate and glass. Jareth leaned back in the chair, and was suddenly awash with the negative feelings his dreams had brought forth in him earlier that morning. When Marlena finished her task of washing the dishes, she turned back around to see Jareth looking rather disturbed.  
  
"You okay?" she asked as she sat down.  
  
He furrowed his brow and let out a long sigh. "Not really. I had a terrible nightmare last night. It seemed so real, almost prophetic. I'm only remembering it in bits and pieces, but I think I've finally reconstructed it entirely."  
  
"If it feels prophetic, it probably is. What was the dream about?"  
  
He scratched his chin a bit and looked about the room, as if it would help him piece things together. "It's a bit random, as dreams can be, but I can reconstruct it a bit more like a story, or at least, the story I think it was trying to tell me. Am I making any sense?"  
  
"Yes, I know what you mean. How dreams don't always have a logical pattern, but they do have an innate meaning that gives them logic."  
  
"Yes, yes, that is what I mean." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "It was about Sarah. She was standing before me in a clearing that I had once met her in, through a dream. She was both like a tree and was a tree. On her arms, or limbs, or whatever they were, sat two birds, one on each. One was a white dove, and the other a black raven. They were both singing music, intermingled and beautiful in their opposing natures, and the notes were floating toward her roots, feeding her and giving her life. Then she was suddenly ripped in two... The birds flew away from each other, toward each half of the tree, each flying about its half, help to regrow the tree of Sarah. One side grew into an apple tree, with white blossoms, frail, floating to the ground. The dove perched atop this tree. Then, the raven changed the other half, where it grew into something gnarled and beautiful, bereft of foliage. It perched upon this tree. The trees were smaller, and were somehow both still Sarah, but not as large as when she had been one tree."  
  
"Wow, that is a very strange dream. Maybe she is having a moral dilemma, and you are picking up on her emotions," Marlena offered.  
  
"I don't know, it was a very strong sense of separation. There have been few times I have known Sarah to have any difficulty over a moral choice, she does have an innate sense of personal morality. But there's more."  
  
"Wait," Marlena said, pulling a handcarved box out of her pocket. She opened it, and out drifted the smell of clove cigarettes. "Join me for a cigarette?"  
  
"Yes, I think I will," he said, taking the cigarette from her and settling it on his lip. Marlena pulled out a thin lighter and lit it for him.  
  
"You've smoked before?" she said, when he did not appear to have any trouble sucking in the fragrant fumes of the cigarettes.  
  
"No, but this is lovely," he said, looking appreciatively at the cigarette as he pulled it from his mouth. "I've seen Aboveworlders smoke in the past, and it looks like such an elegant pastime. I've always wanted to try it."  
  
"It's horrible for your health, but it does give one a sense of inner peace and elegance." She caught herself suddenly staring at how sexy he looked while smoking, and forced herself out of her stupor. "So, finish what you were saying about your dream?"  
  
"Yes, well, there is a second part to the story. The apple tree seems to disappear into a haze, and the focus of the dream becomes the other half of Sarah, the twisted tree. Suddenly I can see Aboveground and Underground as if they are two layers on a cake, from the side. Underground is beneath, of course, and there is a silhouette of Sarah's kindom in the distance. I can see the silhouette of New York above. The tree is in the foreground of the layer that is my world. The raven flies from the branch and comes to the top layer, to New York, and sits atop a tall building, as tall as a mountain, and begins to sing. Soon it is glowing purple, casting a spell. And the two layers that are Aboveground and Underground begin to mesh together. And I get a strong sense of chaos and... I don't know, a fear of no control. It becomes a muddled mass of colors, colors that don't go together, very jarring in nature. I don't know what it all means, but it feels like something dangerous is coming my way."  
  
"Damn, that is some dream," Marlena said, contemplating Jareth's words.  
  
Jareth became even more morose. "I shouldn't have come here. I made a mistake by coming to Sarah in the first place, and endangering her. Now I have endangered another world, and you." He looked up at her, the dread in his eyes very real.  
  
"Now, you need to stop worrying so much about everyone else. You don't have any control over this, or whatever is going to happen. I'm sure your dream is symbolic somehow, perhaps that you are bringing elements of your world here by coming. I can't see how that would be such a bad thing. If anything, I bet that being here is a bit frightening, whether or not you want to admit that to yourself. Maybe you have some frightening perceptions of New York, and that is affecting you on a deep level."  
  
"That all sounds very logical, and you have no idea how much I want to go along with your interpretation... But I know something is going to happen, and soon."  
  
"Well, we'll just deal with it when it gets here. Why don't you go get Toby and get ready for a day out with Ashley? I've put together a couple of outfits for you boys, so you can grab a quick shower and freshen up. I'll get Ashley to take you guys to some fun places, to loosen you up, maybe she could get you a beer or something. Have a little fun. Might as well, especially if you're in store for an unpleasant time, right?"  
  
"Ah, you have no idea what a breath of fresh air you are, Marlena," he said as he rose from his chair and grasped her hand gratefully. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the kitchen.  
  
She rubbed her hand against her face gently, as if to preserve the sensation. Smiling, she said to herself, "Can't remember how long ago it was I was kissed on the cheek by such a gentleman..."  
  
  
  
Jareth entered the storefront again in order to get to the staircase, and found Toby in the middle of a coven of lovely witches. They were all laughing as the boy took a crystal sphere in his hand and began to make it float. They clapped at his success.  
  
Jareth was taken aback by the sight. It was as if he were looking upon a younger version of himself. He finally found his voice. "That was... very good Toby."  
  
"Ah, Jareth!" a blond witch exclaimed. "He's doing very well. This boy has the potential to be a real sorcerer. He's a fast learner!"  
  
"Thank goodness for that... I'm going to need his help in casting a very large spell, that is, if we ever get back to my world."  
  
One of the women ruffled Toby's hair, and he lost his concentration and dropped the sphere. He was beaming. "Look at what I did! I can't believe I did it!" He looked up at Jareth and smiled, as he would if he were seeking approval from a father. Jareth smiled warmly in return. "You are certainly a talented boy. Are these lovely ladies teaching you some magic?"  
  
"Yes, they've taught me lots of tricks, how to make things float, and how to pick things up with my mind. It's so cool!"  
  
Jareth laughed warmly. "Think you can learn some big spells?"  
  
"If they teach me," he said, looking hopeful.  
  
"We'll help you any way we can," the blond-headed witch offered. "We can come back tomorrow and teach you some more stuff."  
  
"That would be splendid," Jareth replied. "Your help would be very much appreciated." He bent down and picked Toby up and said, "Now it's time to get ready to go out on the town with the arse-pincher, lad. I think we both need to bathe. We wouldn't want to offend her nose."  
  
The women chuckled at his description of Ashley. One of them said, "She got ya, huh?"  
  
"Yes, but the laugh will soon be on her," Jareth said, winking his eye. With that, he took the boy upstairs in preparation for a long, and probably very amusing, day.  
  
Once he left, the blond-headed woman said, "Damn, he's so sexy! Let's find this Sarah girl ourselves and get rid of her!"  
  
Another answered, "Don't say things like that, Brenda. It would be cruel. Can't you see how in love with her he is?"  
  
"Yeah," Brenda answered, blowing a blond strand from her face. "It's cute." 


	26. Chapter 25: Actress

CHAPTER XXV: Actress  
  
Sarah had returned to her room within Kaleb's castle and was waiting expectantly for him to arrive. He had visited her twice prior, but she had feigned sleep in hopes that he would not bother her, thus allowing her time to think things through a bit more. The ruse had worked, and he merely thought she was recovering from the powerful effects of his spell.  
  
She knew he was due any minute now. And, as if right on cue, she could suddenly hear the heels of his black knee high boots click-clacking in the stone halls outside of her room, not too fast, not to slow, just right for a man who wants to put on a show of controlled indifference. However, Sarah was fairly certain that he was being eaten away inside with anxiety. He had plans to fulfill, and, for some reason, he needed her subservience to complete them.  
  
A strong realization had come to Sarah during her false slumber. That Kaleb had been far more powerful when he held the spirit of Jareth in tow, as Jareth was vice versa. There was a certain devious dexterity that they possessed in each other's "presence" that neither had without. Some men were stronger when they were at their most conniving and evil, while others were best at their most considerate and good. However, this was not true for Kaleb, who had withdrawn from Jareth for the mere purpose of being free to fulfill his darkest desires. Together they had been torn between two extremes, greater in cunning and will whilst under the yoke of inner struggle. Sarah was not sure if it was the same for herself... No matter how dark her current self had become, she knew she was far less a fool than she had been before, and she must admit, even to herself, that it was likely that the fate that had befallen Kaleb could be her own. But, somehow, she knew that her willingness to consider her own weakness was a strength in itself, and would keep her prepared for the possibility that her unbalanced state would end up causing her to falter.  
  
There was something very simple about Kaleb's desire for power, too easy, too predictable. It was as if he were merely playing out the expected role of a villain, almost as a way to pass the time, like how gods play with the lives of men, and toss the game aside when it ceases to interest them. There was no true love of a woman at stake; this she knew because she had easily deduced that the only feeling Kaleb held for her was mere lust. Power was to be gained, but it was power without an apparent purpose. He did not seem to wish vengeance on Jareth, other than to put him to shame by forcing the world the man lived in and once held power over to kneel before him. She also noticed that the creatures that were warring in the Underground were not falling prey to death or heavy injury, despite the hate-inducing spell of the crows, and despite their constant fighting. He was obviously trying to drag out their pain, but to what end?  
  
Yes, that was the only question of value amongst all the questions Sarah had devised, and it was the only one that eluded her. Before she could take control over all that Kaleb seemed to have gained in his maniacal efforts for power, Sarah had to find the answer to this question. She also had to figure out how she was going to get out of there, and to her final destination of New York, and how she was going to gain the control there that she desired.  
  
She ceased her aimless thoughts and held a pose in preparation for Kaleb's arrival. No key turned in the lock to announce his entering; he had sealed the door with magic, and it was with magic that he quietly opened it.  
  
Sarah awaited him in a very lacey and sensual ensemble that fluctuated from part to part between dress and nightgown. Even Kaleb couldn't deny the shock of this transformation, and allowed a raising of an eyebrow to escape across his lean countenance. He smiled slyly. "Quite a difference. And I thought it would take me at least a day to seduce you."  
  
"You've seduced no one, Kaleb. It is I who am seducing you. However, like any woman, I want to know what I will get out of my willingness to couple with you. So, be a good boy and show me your plans before you touch the merchandise."  
  
"And so forward, too. Perhaps I created a woman who is a little too much for me." He circled her seductively and took the package in.  
  
Sarah was suddenly reminded of her encounter with Jareth in his castle four years ago, when he had gazed upon her in the same fashion whilst she was in a nightgown of far less intent built into its design. It made her wonder if it had been Jareth or Kaleb in control at that moment? Or a combination of both?  
  
"Perhaps I am too much for you," she whispered as she leaned in, a mere inch away from his own face. "But, you will do good to remember that you did not create me. Only opened Pandora's box."  
  
He breathed her in, and dared to close the gap between them by another half inch. "Mmmm. Pandora. One of my very favorite women."  
  
Sarah smiled, but inside she was very calculated, and only slightly interested in having a sexual encounter with this man. She had always suspected that it was her darker side that had always made her so keen on slightly evil men, but now that it was the dark side of her that put her in control of the situation, she found herself feeling very cool towards this man, as if he was not good enough to partake in her talents. However, she could use those talents to gain that which she desired. And, if anything turned her on right now, it was the very fact that she was in control of the situation, and that he had no power over her. The dominatrix has awakened, she mused in her mind, as if she was suddenly able to label the ephemeral state that had taken her over with such ferocity.  
  
It had never been that she wanted to be controlled and manipulated by a man of darkness. It was, on a much deeper level, that she was the one who wanted to control him.  
  
"So, where do we begin, my queen?" Kaleb said, walking round behind her and brushing his fingers against her shoulders.  
  
"Take me to your magic chamber and explain what it is that you really want of me," Sarah replied, "aside from that which I can already guess."  
  
"Very well," Kaleb said, holding her seductive gaze as he opened his left arm indicating for her to go ahead of him. "After you."  
  
She did as bidden and went ahead of him. As he closed the door behind them, he could hear her say from several feet away down the hall, "I am not your queen yet."  
  
He smiled knowingly, as if he understood the game she was playing, and did not think she was going to win.  
  
They walked down the dark halls of the castle, Sarah several feet ahead of Kaleb. She occasionally looked over her shoulder to see if he had any guidance to offer. Finally he nodded towards a wall, where she stopped in expectation. He did nothing to cast his spell, other than think the right thoughts, and the wall dissipated into a long hallway leading to an intricately ornamented doorway. Sarah walked ahead yet again, and turned the knob to enter. She was greeted by the same aviary that she had spied on Kaleb in earlier. Sunlight peeked in through small openings in the walls, just big enough for birds to fly in and out of.  
  
Sarah turned around halfway and gave Kaleb a very faint grin before turning back around and walking knowingly towards the scrying device in the center of the room. She waved her hand over it and brought forth various images from the Underground, and was greeted by a very weary land. The fighting had all but stopped, as many of the creatures recuperated in an almost comatose slumber that had obviously taken unwilling hold of them in the midst of their hate-filled battles.  
  
"I don't know exactly what you have in mind, but this isn't going to keep them down for long. What you hope to gain from it, I have no idea," she commented as she encircled the device.  
  
He approached slowly and peered at her from eyes enshrouded by feathery black hair. "What do you know about acquiring power," he remarked quietly, adding almost as an afterthought, "if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
Sarah smiled inside. His very words indicated that he was underestimating her, and that was exactly what she wanted. However, he was also testing her, just to make sure he wasn't wrong.  
  
She faintly touched the surface of the device and replied, "I was the queen of Sunset City for four years, if you recall. I did not need to acquire power, nor was it my desire to do so. But, I did hold some measure of power due to my position and political skills. Though it may not be the level of power you seek, it was power that I held, and not too little an amount."  
  
"That is true," he agreed. "And perhaps that is why I desire you. Because I know that together we may hold a great deal of power, and use our combined skills to take control over the Underground."  
  
She knew he was lying. "I see," was all she said in response. But she knew very well that he wasn't the type to share power. His unwilling coexistence with Jareth was very strong proof of that fact. He only wanted her as another toy, and perhaps to mold her into a proper "ambassador" to his little kingdom of terror. She could be his ultimate dark raven, making the dark call to announce the coming of her deathly lord. And that she could be, but then, she was suddenly in a mood for her own singular dominance, and did not truly wish to share her spoils, either.  
  
"So, what is our power worth, then?" she asked, eyeing him coolly. "Are we merely torturing for the sake of torture, watching the creatures here suffer for the mere joy of watching others crumble under our yoke, or do we have a greater purpose in hand?"  
  
"I would be a rather dull villain if that was all I had in store," he mused with a half smile. "You hurt me by suggesting such a thing." He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, smelling the hair close to her neck with a dark grace only a villain could possess, almost as if he was trying to prove the lengths of his villainy through a very simple act. "No, I have much more planned. I wish to weaken the kingdoms, and, when they are at their weakest, I will demand their pledge. Then I can be king all throughout the Underground. Perhaps some will go against me. I will use greater force to gain control over them, if need be. The crows are the first phase of my degradation of the kingdoms. Hopefully, for their sake, I will not have to go to my second phase."  
  
Sarah pushed his face away from her neck, gently in motion, but forcefully in manner. Wryly she slipped out from his grasp and idly walked through the labyrinthine trees and shrubbery of the atrium. "Sounds like a very ambitious plan. And, now that you have stolen the third part of the Amethyst from my boudoir, you have the power necessary to accomplish all of your plans." She leaned lazily against a tree and gazed up into the depths of the foliage to see it filled with sleepy-eyed ravens. She looked back at Kaleb, who had followed her throughout the atrium at a careful distance and easy pace. "So, what is your second phase?"  
  
"I will extend the boundaries of the Mist of Dreams," he replied with certainty. "My castle stands squarely at the center of the Mists. That is why no one has found me all these years. Once I extend the boundaries, those caught within the Mists will be lost forever." He began to weave in and out of the nearby grove of trees, speaking as he went. "You may or may not know this, but the peoples of the Underground hold a very real fear of the Mists. Do you know why?"  
  
Sarah cocked her head to the side, shaking it gently. "No."  
  
"It's quite a lovely place. Governed entirely by the faery world, actually, those fae tied least to this world, or any world for that matter. It is said that the dark faeries have control over it, and that they possess nothing like our common idea of morality. Their rules are without bounds, their bounds without ends, and their conception of reality without solidity. They are transcendental creatures with no concern towards the physical creatures of this world."  
  
"I have had many dealings with faery in this world, and I haven't seen any of the qualities you describe. Many of them are very helpful and kind, and, though they are often mischievous and difficult to understand, they have never been outwardly harmful. Or even completely detached."  
  
"Ah, these are the faeries that have chosen to be a part of this world, and have drifted from the faery ways. Those that govern the Mists are stolidly attached to the rules of the fae. Which is why this is such a dangerous place for any mortal. In the Mists, one is likely to lose control to their dreams and emotions. Many people are destroyed by the darkness inside of themselves. As no one returns from the Mists, everyone assumes there are evil fae-created monsters here to devour them. But it is far from the truth. If one travels in the Mists long enough, if they are not killed through a confrontation of their fears, then they are obviously strong enough to overcome their fears. But this is not the point at which they have defeated the Mists. For their dreams of happiness can consume them as well, and then they are so caught up in the charade that they never come to realize that they are not actually in the physical world that is truly their home. So they starve to death."  
  
"Sounds like a very interesting place," Sarah replied, dually chilled and entranced by the notion.  
  
"It is indeed my favorite place. It is the essence of what the Underground truly is. It is a shrine, the purest place of magic here."  
  
Sarah wanted to ask what he meant by his last remark, but she knew she would reveal her cunning too much if she did. "So, you built your castle in the middle of the Mists," she said instead. "That way no one will ever get in... or get out." She smiled slyly at this last statement.  
  
He smiled in return, understanding the insinuation. "Precisely."  
  
"And you did not get lost in the Mists?" she asked.  
  
"No, I am a shadow, part of the same magic that is the Mists. I understand the ways of the faery. I have no dreams for happiness, and I have no fears."  
  
She doubted this last part. Though she could imagine him twisted enough to have no hope for happiness, even she could not claim that she was without fear. And, no matter how long he had lived, or how much power he possessed, he was still of the same matter as her own shadow, Leah, and she knew for a fact that this difference in origin from humans did not give him any greater powers, or automatically make him immune to fear.  
  
"You are powerful," she complimented, coming closer to him. "I am glad you found me and changed me. I would have had no hope of destroying you, and I would have been forced to suffer as everyone else."  
  
"Ah," he said, reaching his hand around her waist. "Your flattery will get you nowhere. You think you may be fooling me with such talk, but I'm not taken in." He bent closer and kissed her lightly, seductively.  
  
And even then, she knew that he was still lying. He was taken in by every word.  
  
She returned his kiss, with greater ferocity. "Perhaps," she replied after she had pulled away. "You will never really know exactly how powerful I am now that you have changed me," she taunted. "But then, isn't that part of the excitement?" She bent close to his ear, whispering, "And isn't that exactly why you did it?"  
  
He gazed at her intensely, as if he had carved the perfect woman out of stone and was amazed to see her come to life. "You are stunning," he said, kissing her neck with a sudden fever.  
  
It's too easy, she thought as he pulled his fingers through her hair. Perhaps later I will have more of a challenge. Then again, it has been more than four years since I last made love to a man...  
  
With that thought, she devoted herself to the task at hand with a complete devotion. And he gave her no cause to regret her decision. 


	27. Chapter 26: Lost Love

CHAPTER XXVI: Lost Love  
  
Sage paced the room slowly, Benedick sitting in a plush chair made of leather, watching him silently the way cats are wont to do. Sage had actually been pacing the room for almost an hour, only breaking the silence occasionally with mumblings. He had deemed that it was time to concentrate on the problems at hand, and come upon solutions. The cat was, for once, too tired to really say much of anything, so he reverted to an old habit that he usually only did in private, and began to clean himself. Steadily he licked his paw and rubbed it against the back of his ears, only looking up occasionally to look at Sage from slitted eyes. Sometimes he shook his head, amazed at the elf's ability to pace for so long. He could swear Sage had rubbed a visible hole in the floor.  
  
Finally, Benedick said something. "This must be the place that you used to pace before you were kicked out, eh?"  
  
Sage nodded absentmindedly. "Actually, yes." He did not turn his gaze from the wearing carpet. Benedick took a closer look at the rug, and realized that he had not been imagining the worn-down path. "I see now."  
  
"It's quite soothing. I haven't done it for some time."  
  
The silence took hold again, and Benedick went back to cleaning whilst Sage continued to pace. Until the elf abruptly stopped and broke the silence.  
  
"That's it."  
  
"What's it?" Benedick asked, pausing in his cleaning with his paw awkwardly held behind his ear.  
  
"The Mists of Dreams."  
  
"What about them? Other than the fact that they're scarier than my mother?"  
  
"That's where Kaleb's hiding. That's the only place he could have gone that we would not have seen hide or tail of him in four years." Sage finally plopped down in a chair next to Benedick. The cat put an end to his routine, and put his paw on the arm rest. Then he thought better of it, licked the paw, and brushed a stray piece of fur back into its proper place on his handsome brow. Finally he was satisfied.  
  
"Not possible. He'd die from the journey."  
  
"Not necessarily," Sage mused. "He may have powerful enough mental control to get through unscathed."  
  
"Aren't there big scary gits living in the Mists?" Benedick asked. "Big scary gits made through the nightmares of the evil faeries?"  
  
"Oh, nonsense," Sage replied. "That's all myth. And evil faeries don't live in the mists. Really, faeries are neither evil nor good. They carry out certain tasks, and we define them as evil or good."  
  
"Now, I don't know about that," Benedick said. "I had plenty of faeries bite me, and plenty to play some very nasty tricks on me. I have one hairball faery named Mittens who keeps following me around and cursing me with some nasty hairballs."  
  
"Ah, yes, but you just happen not to like hairballs. But it is merely the faery's job to create hairballs, nothing more. It's not personal."  
  
"And when he giggles maniacally after he's made one manifest, then he's not showing pure evil joy over his ability to make my life miserable?" Benedick argued.  
  
"Of course not. He's just getting joy out of his work."  
  
Benedick shook his head. "You're nuts."  
  
"No, really. Believe it or not, faeries are one of the highest beings of magic in our land. Some have gained more individual qualities by living about physical beings. For instance, there is a band of earth faeries called Banter Sprites who live in the forest of the Fire Gang. They chose to be around them and experience bits and pieces of the Fiery way of life. Now they've become regular party animals, and think quite as earnestly as the Fieries do that everyone's head is removable, and that it MUST be removed in order for anyone to have a good time, or, for that matter, a fulfilling life. But, faeries who are more separated from physical existence are completely amoral, meaning that they are entirely without morals, good or bad. They are a more transcendental type of faery, and they have greater concerns than whether or not your buttered toast should fall buttered side up or down, or if you should suddenly have a horrible accident to have your head removed so that your life can be truly fulfilled. There is only one main purpose to the tasks they perform."  
  
"And what is that?" Benedick said, obviously not believing a bit of what Sage was telling him, no matter how interested he was in what the elf had to say.  
  
"To bring forth life-altering challenges."  
  
Benedick didn't seem convinced, and looked at him in that way cats do when they think you are full of rubbish.  
  
"Think about it... The Mist of Dreams is actually a place where one's fears are made manifest. If you go into the Mists with the idea that you are going to encounter something horrible that you will have no ability to face, then your fears will consume you. However, if you go into the Mists knowing that you will be facing one of your own demons, then you can be more resolute that you are going to overcome that fear. You could be consumed by the fear and die in the Mists, or you could come out a better individual, stronger for conquering your fear. And, anyways, what kind of life is one that is eaten away by a constant fear?"  
  
Benedick straightened his vest and replied, "Ah, that is something I will agree with. Though I still think the Mists are a horrible place, and I'm glad we're not going there."  
  
Sage looked at him strangely. "Ah..."  
  
Benedick looked up suddenly. "No, don't say it."  
  
"Ok, I won't, but you know what I want to say. Or rather, wish I didn't have to say."  
  
"No, no, no!" Benedick rose from his chair and began the pacing anew on Sage's behalf. "We are not going in there," he said with a gesticulating paw.  
  
"But... Well, but you know what I am going to say."  
  
Benedick crossed his arms and looked like a tantrum-throwing kitten. "Oh, shut up." He plopped back down into the chair and sighed. "I know, I know, we have to if we're going to get Sarah back and destroy Kaleb."  
  
Sage sighed too and nodded his head. "So, I'd say that we all had a few counseling sessions before we go to... well... let out our inner demons."  
  
"Let's not and say we did," Benedick answered.  
  
Sage looked at him carefully. Benedick returned his gaze. They nodded and spoke in unison.  
  
"Right. Let's not."  
  
Benedick spoke next. "That could get really scary."  
  
"Don't want to think about it," Sage answered.  
  
They both lapsed into silence once again. Sage, in particular, knew he had some demons to overcome, and he didn't relish having to face them in the Mists. Sarah and the others had always seen him as indiscriminately calm and without worry. And, it was indeed true, Sage did have a stronger grasp on himself than most beings, even of his age. However, there was a dark moment lurking in his past that even he had not overcome, and he knew instantly that it would be the main subject of his experience within the Mists. Yet, he did know also that he would be the better for having to face it, so he sighed resolutely, awaiting the moment with terror for having to face this oft-avoided event in his life, while also feeling a deep relief for having a chance to overcome it.  
  
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Benedick asked. "You know, what you're going to have to face in the Mists?"  
  
Sage gave him a wan smile and looked at the cat from the corner of his eye. "Very perceptive."  
  
"Would you like to share?" Benedick asked. "A burden's better on two shoulders."  
  
"That sounds like something I would say," Sage responded with a chuckle. "Very well, but only if you tell me your story too."  
  
"I shall." Benedick said with a solemn nod. "I'm all ears."  
  
Sage rose and poured a glass of wine from a decanter sitting on a desk nearby. He handed it to Benedick, then poured himself one. In a very uncharacteristic fashion, the elf downed the whole glass before talking.  
  
"It's about something that happened to me long ago. Actually, it is the event that led up to my exile from Ulmar, the Elfin Kingdom." He looked away dreamily, as if replaying the events in his mind as he spoke them. "I was the old king's sorcerer, Eberon's father. He was a good king, a very good king. There was a time when it seemed a majority of the kings and queens of the various kingdoms in the Underground were of a very sound judgment. This was that time. Everything seemed right with the world, except for a few details, perhaps. But I had a premonition that the peace would fail soon. I was correct.  
  
"The King came down with a very strange illness of faery origin, one that could only have been brought upon him by one of our kind, because only elves know of this curse, and faeries are not able to inflict this illness on other beings. The King died within days, and his son took the throne. I had been charged with teaching the boy all I knew, but he was impatient, unwilling to wait for knowledge, much like another apprentice I had had years before. I was beginning to break new ground with the boy, or so I thought, right before his father died. I only needed a couple more years to breed his immaturity away, but, alas, my time ran out. It was a great loss for me, for I knew how Eberon would be as a king, and, as king, I had no control over him. Also, his father had been one of my closest friends, the closest I had had in years. I was in great mourning. I knew Eberon wished to be rid of me, but he must keep me in order to keep face with the kingdom. So he kept me at his side, but was very cold to me, and gave me little opportunity to assist. His father had bid me look after him, and I did my best to intervene when times were desperate, but he often destroyed all of my efforts to improve upon the conditions in the kingdom.  
  
"It was a very dark time in Ulmar, and a mere couple of years had bred a great deal of distrust in the kingdom, especially towards outsiders. He wanted the elves to rule all, and therefore he started false stories of wrongs done by other races, to elves, and to races other than their own. Elves have always, in general, been prone to a bit of self-righteousness and snobbery, and he eagerly fed into this sentiment. And it couldn't have been the worst time for me."  
  
Sage sighed, seemingly saddened by what lie ahead in his tale. "It was a beautiful spring afternoon in the woods, and I was attempting to wile away my increasingly wasteful time by familiarizing myself with the forests outside of the castle. And then I saw her, the most beautiful human woman I had ever laid eyes upon. Her hair was a vibrant red, and her eyes the richest green. She was truly mere inches away from being an elf, yet, the human in her made her far more lovely than any elf I had ever come across. She was gathering herbs, and we soon began to talk. I was instantly in love with her. She was a witch, and lived with a coven not far from the kingdom, out in the forest. I began to visit her frequently, but, though we wished to, we could not wed. Nor did marriage truly matter to us, for we were creatures of love, not of ritual. Well, being a witch, she was in practice a creature of ritual, but those sort of things do not truly matter where love is concerned. But I digress.  
  
"Eberon found out. And he used it to destroy me. Once he found her, he brought her to the castle and told the city that I had been fraternizing with a human witch and had been making treasonous plans with her. And, Mother Land, if I'd know why, they believed him. He called my new apprentice forth to cast a spell of exile upon her, a spell that most often placed the victim into a state of limbo, where their body would surely perish. I don't know what truly became of her, and I loathe to think on it. Then he exiled me to the forest. Some of my closest companions followed, and that's how I started my tribe. It wasn't too harsh a punishment, as tribes of nomad elves are known to wander the lands. So I was not completely separated from my people. And, the tribes are much softer in nature, and closer to the land. They hold very few of the seeds of distrust that elves in the city tend to have.  
  
"Thank the land that they were so kind and honest, for no one until this day, other than my tribe, and now you, has found out that Vindar was the son that my love and I had before Eberon was able to kill her. Had he known, he would have surely exiled my son with her. Now he thinks that Vindar is merely the child of a love affair with another elfin wife, and it serves to protect Vindar. But, I have not loved another woman since Marlena. She owns my lifeblood, and always shall, until we are together again in the mists beyond this life."  
  
Benedick blinked in awe. He seemed totally transfixed by Sage's story. "Wow. I had no idea... I never really knew much about why you and Eberon were at each other's throats, nor thought about how it was you ended up in the forests. So that explains your excellent skills as Sarah's advisor. And Vindar..." He drifted off, shaking his head in amazement. "Who knows, Sage. Maybe you will find your love again someday. There is a great deal of magic in this world, and stranger things have happened."  
  
"Well, stranger things have indeed happened, my friend, and I do hope that you are right. But it happened several upon several years ago, and I have not yet let go of her. I will never have another woman, but, yet, I must let go to let my heart move on. And that is what I fear most that I will have to face in the Mists." He poured another glass and looked at Benedick. "Now, friend, you must tell me your fear."  
  
Benedick shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. "It's not nearly so noble as yours."  
  
"I'm sure you make little of something that is quite difficult. Tell me."  
  
He shrugged again, as if he knew Sage would be greatly disappointed in his tale. "I'm just deathly afraid of water. Hate the stuff. I can drink it, but mother help me if I have to dip a paw in it..."  
  
Sage laughed so hard he spilled wine all over the desk. It was a laugh he greatly needed, especially after the dredging of difficult memories.  
  
"You are too much for me, dear Benedick. Too much." 


	28. Chapter 27: Discoveries

CHAPTER XXVII: Discoveries  
  
It was a new morning. Vindar rose from his bed and yawned fitfully, having slept well and ready to tackle the day. He hopped up out of bed and quickly got dressed, sprinkling some tree musk on his neck before throwing the door open and sauntering down the hall.  
  
This is how Vindar started every day, whether he was sure it was going to be a good day or not. But it was looking a bit on the up side. As he passed a row of openings down a covered catwalk connecting two buildings, the sun shone through the windows, a little hopeful in its ascent. He whistled as was his custom, and quickly came upon the floating figure of Isabelle. He slyly made his way toward her, startling her as he grabbed her about the waist and swung her down the catwalk. Once she figured out who it was, she laughed, and, for once, went along with his playful lovers games. "Vindar, you nearly scared my head right off my shoulders!"  
  
"Good, then we can have a proper Fiery dance." He took one of her hands and began to waltz her into the other building. "Let's go find out how things are going with the recovery process, shall we?" he said as they made their way toward the throne room. Isabelle giggled the whole way there.  
  
Once they made it into the room, they saw that Leah was already there speaking with people and creatures alike on how things were going. Whoever she was speaking to left, and they approached to get the news.  
  
"How goes it?" Vindar asked Leah while he went to hold Isabelle's hand. Isabelle bit her lip and seemed to think of pulling her hand away, none too comfortable with a public display of emotion, yet she seemed to think better of it and gave way to his romance.  
  
"Surprisingly good," Leah answered, making obvious note of their hand- holding and winking at Vindar. "I think the corn worked... The crows dug right in, and not too many hours later, everyone apparently went back to normal. So many of the citizens felt bad about their behavior, that they went to the task of trying to fix all the damage that had been done due to the spell. We've dispatched citizens all throughout the Labyrinth to make repairs. It seems quiet so far. We're even able to release those we had to put in the dungeons."  
  
"That's wonderful news," Vindar exclaimed. "What about my people? Have they come to their senses? They had already started a battle with us before all this chaos, thanks to Eberon's scheming."  
  
Leah smiled as if she were surprised herself by the answer she was about to give. "The elves are helping, too, believe it or not. Once I told them what Eberon had been up to, most of them decided to break away from allegiance with him and to join us here in Sunset City. Apparently he had been feeding them some kind of nonsense about how Sarah was using her allegiance with the other six kingdoms as a way to take over smaller groups, and that they were planning to get revenge on Ulmar on behalf of Sage. God knows why they believed that crap. And why would your father want revenge on the kingdom of Ulmar?"  
  
Vindar frowned noticeably. "That's another story entirely... I mean, my father is better than that, wouldn't try for revenge, but he would have good cause should he choose to. Eberon is the one responsible for my mother's death."  
  
Leah seemed taken aback, and Isabelle immediately squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "Oh, I'm so sorry Vindar..." Isabelle said quietly. "I had no idea. How long ago was it?"  
  
"Oh, not long after I was born. I really never knew her, though I can remember her vividly. Elves have a stronger awareness as babes than do humans. She was a beautiful woman. She used to sing this enchanting song to me..." He drifted off a moment.  
  
"Well, it doesn't ever matter how long ago it was," Isabelle replied, as if pondering her own similar heartache. "It's still difficult to handle the death of one's mother."  
  
Vindar looked at her so intensely, it was as if Leah were not there. "Yes, you are right. So so right."  
  
Leah gently broke their silence. "Well, guys, it looks as if things are back to normal. Why don't you two take it easy for the day? I've arranged a large lunch to be served out in the square for all those at work today."  
  
"What about Sarah?" Isabelle asked. "Now that we are done dealing with the crows, should we go after her?"  
  
"Well, we'll see. I'm going to try to contact Sage later today and see how things are going. He may need our help." Leah started to leave, and then thought better of it. "Oh, I almost forgot. I've been keeping an eye on Hoggle through the mirrors, and he's still asleep. But he looks as if he'll awaken soon. I think he needs more help than anyone right now."  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right," Isabelle answered. "We'll look after him."  
  
Leah smiled broadly. "Good. Now I'm off to be the queen I never wanted to be. I swear, when this is all over, I'm going to go home and watch t.v. and eat Ben and Jerry's for a week."  
  
Isabelle and Vindar looked at each other in confusion. "Teevee?" Vindar asked.  
  
"Just a form of mass brainwashing they have Aboveground, that's all." When they still looked confused, she finally said, "Oh, forget about it. I'm gonna go make lunch plans."  
  
"Okay," Isabelle answered. The two shrugged and walked hand in hand to the gardens.  
  
Isabelle and Vindar walked quietly together through the exotic gardens of Sunset City. The flowers themselves seemed like living alien creatures, tumbling wildly in predefined patterns set by the castle gardeners. One fiery gardener stood in a far corner, watering plants and alternating between hums and bops to a strange fiery tune. As he saw the two enter through the adorned alcove, he slipped out, bopping as he went.  
  
"This is probably the loveliest garden I've seen," Vindar said quietly as he gazed about.  
  
"Yes, Sarah has done well with it. I think she really likes flowers a lot... She sent scouts all through the Underground to discover the loveliest of species. She told me once that the flowers here are even more beautiful than Aboveground. Yet she still has her favorites."  
  
"There are some flowers here that I don't recognize, and I thought I had seen all the kinds there were to be seen Underground," Vindar replied.  
  
"She brought some seeds from Aboveground, because she didn't want to forget the flowers from home," Isabelle answered, smiling at the thought of Sarah's nostalgia.  
  
"They're beautiful. Nice to get to know a bit about the Queen's world. And what better means than studying its flowers?" Vindar chuckled.  
  
"Yes, I suppose they would be the most peaceful and pretty specimen of her world. I'm glad she brought them here."  
  
The silence permeated once again bringing an awkwardness to the two courting youngsters.  
  
"Do you miss your mother?" Isabelle finally asked somberly.  
  
Vindar gave her a wan smile. "I didn't know her well... but, yes. Every moment. I think Elves feel our lifeforce differently than humans. There's a sort of vibration in the soul, an excitement. I can feel my mother still vibrating through me, and I know it is her. It is almost as if she is still living. Sometimes I think a see her doing things right now, out of the corner of my eye. It's very strange."  
  
"What do you mean? Like things she used to do around you while you were still a babe?"  
  
"No, I mean, I visualize those moments, but I actually feel like I am watching her now. Like she is living her life out, and I am watching. Maybe it is a vision of what she could have been, had she survived."  
  
"What kinds of things do you see her doing?" Isabelle asked, squeezing his hand sympathetically.  
  
"Gathering herbs. Making potions. Talking with strange people." Vindar laughed. "Imagine it, I think I've even seen her talking with Jareth! Of all things..." He paused a moment to consider the issue. "But I never see my father, or myself. It makes me a little sad. I wish we were with her. I always knew she was a strong woman, but whatever realm she is in now, she should not be alone. Yes, I miss her. Strangely enough, I do."  
  
Isabelle smiled sweetly. "But she is not alone. Wherever she is... I am sure she has made friends wherever she went. If you love her without knowing her, then I am sure strangers - whether they be otherworldly creatures, or creatures such as ourselves - feel automatically compelled to take her in. If she is anything like you -" Isabelle stopped and blushed, as the words slipped unconsciously from her lips.  
  
Vindar stopped in his tracks and looked deeply into Isabelle's eyes. He said nothing, brushing his slender fingers through the girl's wavy locks. Her face turned a deep shade of pink and she looked away uncomfortably. The elfin boy pulled her chin up to face him, and began to sing these words:  
  
Gazing on stars from leaf-strewn fields I gaze upon the very soul Of life itself  
  
I find a seed, to plant, to grow A beginning where life begins The plant's life, my own  
  
And when the summer casts a shadow Upon the face, upon the heart Upon the seedlings in the furrow Upon the maidens in their silks Upon the world so wild and sweet  
  
I think on thee  
  
The source and beginning of my life The force of being My relief from the summer sun  
  
Should the waters flow awry Should a tear beset my eye Should the sky turn red as blood My mind will follow deep and true To oceans blue To skies of you  
  
In the faery wilds I've seen Twists and turns, warped and mean Beauty like an unwashed pearl A pearl most like our dark/light world  
  
I find my peace in thoughts of thee  
  
Most like the foamy, deep blue sea. Most like the foamy, deep blue sea.  
  
Isabelle's eyelashes were glistening with tears, from which one drop finally fell. "That was beautiful, Vindar. It was... I've never heard a song like that."  
  
"It's an ancient song of my people, one my mother used to sing to me. The words are difficult to translate, but I believe that it comes across close to how it was intended... I've waited a long time to find someone I could sing it to."  
  
Isabelle seemed lost for words. "It's beautiful," she finally managed.  
  
Vindar brushed his fingers along her cheek. "Not as beautiful as you, my lovely Isabelle. Very little could compare to your beauty, inside as well as out."  
  
Isabelle smiled slightly and turned her face away from his intense, gazing eyes. They seemed to burn a fire within, exotic, from the realm of faery. She was drawn back toward them, and felt herself taken in, a willing participant to their magic. Vindar drew close, his fine high cheekbones mere inches away from the soft curve of her own. His shiny black hair mingled with her own brunette waves as he came in close for a kiss. Their lips touched softly and sweetly, their eyes remaining open as they gazed at each other during this intimate moment. Slowly Vindar drew away to gaze at his love, as Isabelle gazed back, suddenly less shy in her mannerisms. As they cherished this elegant moment, they could suddenly hear Leah's voice echoing from the very walls of the castle. They pulled away slowly and turned their ears to take her words in.  
  
"Isabelle and Vindar... Please come quickly, Hoggle has disappeared."  
  
* * *  
  
Delina had arrived at the Dwarven kingdom the previous night, by flight of the Spangores. She was sitting in her throne room, doing her best to bring order to the floundering city, and talking to her messengers about the events of the night before. One more search had proved useless. With the help of the Spangores, the little dwarves had searched for the source of the crows, and they had returned empty handed yet again. The queen was beginning to feel very disturbed by the whole ordeal. Though Sage's plan for spreading enchanted corn about the kingdoms had worked to dispel the birds, the crows still flew overhead in great flocks. In Delina's mind, they seemed angry. Who knew when they would strike again? Or in what more dreadful manner this hidden sorcerer would torment them a second time? This was indeed the most frightening type of enemy: hidden, powerful, without morality or shame. There was a feeling of doom in the air, as if something worse were about to strike. Delina did her best to comfort the peoples of her kingdom in a speech earlier that morning, yet they were still piling up around the doors, waiting for an explanation. Why do they wish our destruction? What is their motive, and what do they hope to accomplish? Who is this enemy?  
  
She was saddened greatly that she could not answer any of their questions. So she remained in silence at her throne, pondering all possibilities.  
  
Just as she was feeling her lowest, her court sorcerer approached, his grey tunic lined in silver, the bottom of his black trousers touching the floor at his heels. He looked very tired, and his bushy eyebrows drooped more than usual. Delina couldn't help think that he looked worse than when she had last seen him that morning, after he had stayed up all night in an attempt to rid the kingdom of the magical birds. "What is it, Gris?"  
  
He hobbled up to the throne and shook his head sadly. "I've gotten news that the Bookkeeper has passed on. By way of enchantment, his wife journeyed with him to the other realm."  
  
"Oh dear me." Delina hunched over, propping her head up with her little hands. "What a miserable day this has been. How did you get the news?"  
  
Gris looked uncomfortable in answering. "The Guardian spoke to me."  
  
Delina was astounded. "The Guardian? But I thought he only came in dire situations?"  
  
Gris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, but he and the Bookkeeper had a close relationship. He helped him to pen the knowledge of the worlds above our own."  
  
"Why do you think he told you? Surely he is not concerned with easing our worries over his passing? We would have learned from his son soon enough."  
  
"I don't know, your majesty. I think there must be a greater cause. I think..."  
  
"What is it, Gris?"  
  
"I think - if you can believe this - that I detected.... sorrow in his voice."  
  
"Oh dear me," was all Delina could managed. "I knew something about this day did not feel right." The queen drifted off quietly, staring thoughtfully at the walls.  
  
"My queen, what is it?" Gris asked.  
  
Suddenly snatched from her reverie, Delina answered. "Oh Gris. It just makes me horribly sad. If only my father had not been so stubborn. The Bookkeeper was a great man, and my father insulted him. It was a horrible mistake. And now he is gone, and there is no time to repay him."  
  
"I am sure, your majesty, that he is in a place of greater understanding, as your father," Gris consoled.  
  
"Maybe. Or perhaps they are still the same stubborn old men they always were." She seemed to think on it a moment longer, then rose from her chair. "Well, there's no time to harp on it right now. Maybe we can send some dispatchers to the other six kingdoms of the council, and see how things are going for them. Since we have no real solutions at the moment. Maybe Sage has come up with something..." As she started to walk off, Gris remained stationary, looking as if he had something remaining to say.  
  
Delina picked up on his hesitancy and turned around. "Gris? What is it?"  
  
"Uh." He hobbled over slowly and finally stuttered out, "The Guardian... He also said something else."  
  
Delina's face dropped. "What did he say?"  
  
Gris gulped and finally answered, "He said... Prepare for the worst."  
  
Delina sighed heavily. "Oh dear me."  
  
Kaleb stared out of the window of his study and gazed upon the hazy mists outside. It had been quite a task to create a false horde of minions to accompany him to Sarah's kingdom during the independence festival. In truth, he had few followers, and most of them were of the aviatic sort. Humans were far too emotional. None would have been able to withstand the dangers of the Mist of Dreams, even to live within his protected castle. Sarah had been the only one, and she did not succumb to the madness, because she had already been maddened by him.  
  
As if voicing his thoughts, Kaleb's Spangore companion, Claw, entered the room and said, "Do you think this girl would have survived the Mists if you had not transformed her?"  
  
Kaleb turned slowly about from his musings and thought the question over carefully. After a few moments of silence, he said, "Yes. I think she would have."  
  
"I do not know whether or not that is a good thing, M'Lord. If she is not powerful enough to withstand the Mists, then she is not a fit companion. If she is powerful enough, she may attempt to overthrow you."  
  
Kaleb laughed at the prospect. "Her overthrow me? Never." He glanced out the window, continuing, "She could not overthrow the part of Jareth that was me when she first arrived here. It was a game we were playing, and I only let her go because that fool Jareth would have discovered my existence if she had continued to be around to toy with his emotions. And, as she was trying to outwit Jareth by obtaining the Amethyst to use against him, she inadvertently gave me the means to control this world. Even now, she is probably trying to overthrow me, only this time it is going to be for her own gain."  
  
"And this does not trouble you, M'Lord?" The bird nestled his beak into his feathers and pecked at an elusive itch.  
  
"Not at all. Greed is so predictable. Besides, she is not at all savvy in her use of the darker emotions. I am sure that she has been the good little school-girl all of her existence."  
  
"But have you not watched over her throughout the years, M'Lord? You would be most likely to know her whims."  
  
Kaleb seemed disconcerted by the question. "No. Once she returned to her world after she acquired her brother in the first journey, I - I mean, Jareth and I - were unable to spy on her."  
  
"How can that be?"  
  
"She must have put up a block against us. That is when I knew Sarah was indeed powerful. After having been exposed to the magic, she did not need spells or tricks to keep us away. Occasionally I could get through... It was a block she created unconsciously, all through her desire to be rid of us, of Jareth. That is why I wanted her to acquire the Amethyst. I knew she could withstand the perils, might even sway to my manipulations and make me more powerful. She didn't at first, but, in the end..."  
  
"Patience is a virtue," Claw replied, in an attempt to finish the sentence of his Lord.  
  
Kaleb waved his hand, as if brushing the remark aside. "I have no use for virtues, Claw. Patience is a means to an end. The end is Payback."  
  
The Grand Chamber sparkled in inky hues all about her. From a distance, she looked small, sitting in the large silver throne that belonged to Kaleb. Rich burgundy tapestries curved inward toward her, a large accentuation of her feminine curves. Her face was pale and lovely, her lips a ruby color, with a hint of dark purple at the edges. She was so still, she seemed a permanent part of the environment. Her hands were placed on the hand rests of the chair, her legs held closely together underneath her shimmering, golden gown of silk. A black scarf decorated her fair neck. She was symmetrical, splitting the room in two.  
  
Her purple eyelids were closed. They had been closed for some time. Sarah was in deep meditation, her quiet and dark presence making a heavy impression upon the room.  
  
From across the chamber, Eberon sat in his glass cage, a new jester's hat adorning his head, rosy circles of red paint on his cheeks. Despite his clown-like appearance, it was obvious that he was in misery. He finally rose up from his sulking position on the floor and pressed against the glass. "What are you doing? Trying to consult Sage telepathically? Practicing Yoga?"  
  
When she didn't respond and continued to remain still, Eberon turned around and slunk back to the floor. "Figures. She goes Farbotz at the worst time. What is she doing? She's been like this for hours."  
  
"Do you talk to yourself all the time, Eberon?"  
  
Eberon jumped at the sound of her voice. When he turned around, she was staring him down through the glass. "H-how did you get here so fast! I didn't see you move!"  
  
Sarah just smiled at him. "Not frightened of the little play queen, are you?" She ran her fingers along the glass and gazed at him through lazy eyes. "I think it is funny that you wish me to contact Sage. 'Oh help us, Sage! I know I betrayed you, but am I not the son of your best friend?'" He seemed uncomfortable with her talk, but he stopped in fear when she stared him directly in the eye, an evil stare taking hold of her countenance, strangely becoming. "'Oh that's right, I forgot,'" she continued, pretending to speak from Eberon's viewpoint. "'I killed your wife, didn't I?"  
  
Eberon backed away from her, trembling. He seemed to have forgotten he was in a cage, for he jumped when he ran into the opposing wall. "How did you know that? Did Sage tell you that I killed her?"  
  
"Oh, please." She turned her back to face him. "Sage is too good for that. He knew that telling me such a thing would ruin your chance of becoming a member of the council."  
  
"Then... how?"  
  
She gazed at him over her shoulder, smiling flirtatiously. "Your thoughts run like water on the surface of your mind, Eberon. You can't hide from me."  
  
One couldn't tell, but it was almost certain that Eberon was going pale beneath his white facial paint. "You can... read my thoughts? That can't be. No, you're lying."  
  
He looked up and realized she was gone. And he was out of the cage. He turned around in shock, and she was crouched low behind him, at eye level. As if he were a child. "It is you that are lying," she said, poking her lip out in a childlike manner. "Or at least, keeping things from me. What are you thinking?" She began to toy with the bells on his hat. "You had a little flash there for a moment. When you realized I could read your mind. Now what would that little lightbulb be saying, Eberon? Hmm?" She rubbed her finger across his sharp nose, and white paint came off her finger. She showed it to him, then rubbed her fingers together to wipe it away.  
  
"You're mad," he answered.  
  
She rose up and spread her arms out, laughing. As she twirled about the room, she cried, "Why yes! I am! Isn't it a curious thing?" Stopping abruptly in her tracks, she gave Eberon a serious look. "A little over the top, huh? Maybe a bit too British? I've been practicing my Jareth impersonation lately. How do you think I am doing?"  
  
Eberon gulped. "Look, I will help you defeat Kaleb. You just tell me what to do, and I will help you. Just please, get me out of here, out of this... atrocious clothing. I am a king, this is humiliating. Anything!"  
  
"No, Eberon. I am a queen, and it is you who are not treating me with the appropriate respect. Remember, you are withholding information, and you'd better give way soon, because Kaleb will be unoccupied shortly, and the first person he will seek out is me. And when that happens, I won't be so happy. I'll have to play his little game until the next chance comes about for me to do a little snooping, and that may not be for a long time. And I could always come up with some entertainment to occupy you while I am waiting..." She snapped her fingers, and a wickedly grinning dancing monkey appeared from nowhere. Eberon began to dance with it, an expression of horror crossing his face, as he was not dancing voluntarily. "Alright!" he shouted. "Anything, I'll tell you! Just no dancing beasts! Please!"  
  
The monkey disappeared, and its evil grin was last to leave. Eberon shivered.  
  
"That's more like it," Sarah dripped. "Now what was it you were thinking, my little green elf?"  
  
"I just... It seemed to me that you had gained a little power from the Amethyst."  
  
"How is that possible, little boy-king? I don't have the Amethyst."  
  
"Yes, but... well, there is something Sage never knew about the Amethyst. Only the lineage of kings are to know."  
  
"And what would that be, current king in standing?"  
  
"The first person to touch the Amethyst has true power over it. It is a link that cannot be broken. That is why Kaleb brought you here... He has to have you in order to have the full power of the Amethyst in his control."  
  
"Aw, that's all he wants little old me for?" she said, pretending to sound injured.  
  
"Well, I, uh... I assume there are other factors playing into it, surely." He briefly looked her over as he said this, then stopped out of fear of her reaction.  
  
"Oh, you flatter me, Eberon," she answered with a dry chuckle. "Thanks for telling me, though. I read it from your mind anyway, but I thought it would be good to see whose side you were playing on."  
  
With that, he was back in the cage. "Wait!" he cried. "Aren't you going to let me out?"  
  
"Do you really think I am in a position to do such a thing? And why would I enlist your help, anyways? You are a backstabber, no matter what side of the board you are playing on. I don't trust you, even if I can throw you across a football field. I think I'll keep you around a bit longer, for your entertainment value."  
  
The monkey reappeared, and the two began dancing. Eberon tried to scream, but no sound came from his mouth.  
  
"Payback is a bitch, isn't it?" she said under her breath as she left the room, untying her black scarf and flailing it about playfully as she did so.  
  
Hoggle's left eyeball popped out from behind a corner and swiveled about, in search of any passerbys that might divulge his location. Once he was comfortable that he was alone, he came from behind the corner, hobbling down the hall with a large talisman in tow. The heavy iron scudded across the floor as he dragged it laboriously, a mere few feet from his destination. He grunted with the exertion. "Damn you fer bein' a weak fool, Hoggle. C'mon, c'mon..." He dragged it behind the foundry doors just in time; a fiery guard started to head down the hall for his regular patrol. It thought it heard a sound, scratched its chin, then decided to take its head off, dribbling it like a basketball down the hallway whilst it hummed a merry tune.  
  
The dwarf gingerly closed the doors behind him, and came upon his work in progress. A large dusty book lay open next to the half-built machine, which was made primarily from old rusty bits of metal, and a few odds and ends Hoggle had scrounged up from around the castle. He dropped the talisman next to the machine, and started to pass his finger across the tome to refresh his memory on the next steps. "So's I put this, here, then attach this and this..." He looked up and summarized the remaining work. He dragged the talisman over, leaving the book opened to the appropriate page. At the left top of the page was the title of the book, "Magical Machines." At the right top, was the name of the chapter.  
  
"Portals into the Afterlife."  
  
Granen had gone out into the forest in search of some food for the two to eat. It had been awhile since Sarah's last meal, and her stomach churned for sustenance. Being the gentleman he was, Granen immediately offered to find something, immediately after he heard her growling stomach.  
  
"Where is he?" she mumbled under her breath. She rubbed her arms slowly, trying to engage a little warmth in her tired flesh. Night was closing again on the Mists, and with it, the cold. She had a dark premonition inside of her, yet she tried to stay optimistic. "He'll be back soon, I bet." Yet, she couldn't hide from the fact that she was suddenly aware of how alone she was. And how powerless.  
  
There was a noise in the grey forest. Sarah jumped and turned towards the source. It was Granen - he fell in his tracks, and tried to crawl toward her. He was covered in blood.  
  
"Oh my God! Granen, what happened to you!" She ran to his side and held him up. His skin was very cold to the touch.  
  
He coughed and answered in a scratchy, quiet voice, "Sarah, you must run."  
  
"Run from what!? What happened?" The panic was evident in her eyes.  
  
"We cannot defeat Kaleb. Kaleb will destroy us all." He started to close his eyes.  
  
"NO!" she shouted. "Keep your eyes open! I swear, I will get him for what he has done to you... How -"  
  
"No Sarah!" he replied hoarsely, his eyes popping open. "You are too weak! You are powerless against him. You must run. No one can defeat him. Just... run... away..."  
  
He drifted off, and was dead. Sarah's eyes were wide with horror. She was in denial. "Oh no, please, GRANEN!" She was about to try CPR, then saw fully the extent of his wounds. Once she saw the clawmarks in his stomach, she dropped her hands and discontinued her attempts. "Oh Granen, not this..."  
  
She brushed the hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead. She didn't have long to mourn his loss - footsteps began to approach her from the darkening distance of foliage. She jolted upright and started making backward steps into the woods. "Kaleb, you bastard!" she shouted into the distance. "How could you do something... so evil?"  
  
A faint voice weaved through the air. "Poor poor Sarah. I have defeated your kingdom, killed all of your friends, and torn the seven kingdoms to shreds. If you ever get out of here, you're not going to recognize your beloved Underground."  
  
"No! Please, no, you're just telling me this to frighten me!"  
  
The footsteps started to come from all directions. It was even darker, Sarah could barely see the trees in her immediate vicinity. "But I am not lying... Hoggle asked me why you weren't there for he and the others, when he had vowed to come whenever you needed him. Why is that, Sarah? Why are you here? You should have saved him."  
  
Sarah turned white. "There's no way you could have... known... about his vow?" She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate. "Oh, God! My friends!" She grabbed her chest, as if fighting off a heart attack. She tried to talk to stave off her fear.  
  
"You! If you were a part of Jareth, why wasn't he more evil? You are hideous! Insane!" She began to run into the forest. "Because Jareth was a truly good man," she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her check. "Because he held him at bay."  
  
She ran faster. "I should have let myself love him. Oh, damn you, Sarah!" At this last outburst, she tripped on a tree root and fell, cutting her face. She held her hand to her skin, and came away with blood. She could barely detect its redness in the dimming light.  
  
"What are you moaning about, little girl?" Kaleb's voice taunted as it changed tone, morphing into a voice more evil and demonic. "You will never feel love again. You are going to die alone."  
  
Out from the shadows came a darker shadow. Yellow eyes glowed from its face. Other shadows came from the depths, encircling her, but it was obvious that this one was the ringleader. It smiled, and a yellowish light came from its twisted mouth. Its voice was deep and resonant, and made the air quiver and vibrate. The trees seemed to turn to water at the touch of its waves. "Such a nieve little girl. You thought that you would escape the darkness of your world, and be free in a realm of magic. That you would pretend to be queen by day, and dance with the fieries by night. You are a fool."  
  
The other shadows echoed him. "A fool, a fool... a fool," they all said in cascading tenors.  
  
Sarah looked up at the shadow, wide-eyed with terror. "Is that you... Kaleb? Is this what you really look like?" She tried to breathe as he brought his dark, formless claws toward the canopy of the sky, where the moon shone behind them. He laughed at her. "You are just now beginning to understand, little girl in the Underground? Why do you think mortals from your world abandoned their dreams, abandoned magic? It is a flight of fancy one night, but the nightmares are going to plague. Magic has a price. They would rather fight to avoid a tax audit, than to admit to themselves again that magic is possible. Now they only have to face their nightmares in their sleep." His silouhette came closer to her, the bright light of his eyes and mouth casting an eerie glow on Sarah's pale face. The red blood trickled down her neck alongside a river of tears. "We are their nightmares, Sarah. You have come to a world where the shadows live. And now you will die here, frail girl. Powerless girl. Now you really know what it means to find your way into the part..."  
  
He raised his claw high in the air, and the other shadows chittered in delight. She closed her eyes, as if in preparation for the blow, then screamed a deafening scream. Her face was contorted with the unreal sound coming from her diaphragm. The trees shook, and the shadows shrieked, melting away into the very air. "I am not powerless!" she screamed. When she opened her eyes, they were gone, and it was day again. She was standing in the clearing, where she had been waiting for Granen. She heard footsteps in the forest, and regained composure enough to hide behind a tree.  
  
Soon the source of the footsteps became apparent. It was Granen, holding leaves and berries in a nook in his shirt. "Where are you, Sarah?"  
  
She peered from behind the tree, terror still in her eyes. Granen immediately dropped his bounty, and came running to her. He raised a hand to her cheek, looking at the blood that stained his skin as he did so. "What happened to you, Lass? Are you alright?"  
  
Sarah put a hand on his chest, as if detecting if he were real or not. "Oh, Granen. You're alive."  
  
He laughed uncomfortably. "Of course, Lass. The shadows aren't gonna eat old Granen."  
  
"Shadows?" she said, again fearful. "Why did you say that?"  
  
"What are you talking about, Sarah? Please tell me what happened."  
  
Sarah took a deep breath. "I don't really understand. Just give me... a second to recuperate." With that, she sat on the floor and tried to compose herself.  
  
"I should have let myself love him," she mumbled, shaking her head. Granen scratched his beard worriedly, and tried to wait for her explanation of the events that had shaken her up so badly, and left her bleeding. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to gratify him as fast as he would have liked.  
  
Ashley, Jareth, and Toby walked leisurely down the sidewalks of New York, having left Sir Didymus at Marlena's Shop, in the trusted care of Marlena herself. They had spent a good portion of the day roaming about various shops. Toby was enchanted by the busy city and its variety. Many times he had declared, "I want to live here!" It was certainly better than his boring town. Ashley seemed to adore Toby, and dragged him gleefully from place to place. She was a child of fancy, and she seemed to fancy showing off her favorite city to the newcomers.  
  
It was mid-day, and Toby had made friends with a few guys playing chess. He managed to wiggle his way into a game, and to wiggle his way into the hearts of the old men. Jareth and Ashley watched on, both of them smiling.  
  
"That kid is somethin' else," Ashely remarked. "He just makes friends so fast. Bet he casts some sort of spell on them, I bet."  
  
Jareth continued to look at Toby as he spoke, a sort of reverence in his eyes. "I don't think you're far off. Even when he was a babe, I was enchanted by him."  
  
Ashley looked confused. "Is he yours? Or are you just the freaky uncle that comes to visit, now and then?"  
  
Jareth raised a brow at her query. "No. Neither. Though, I suppose the latter is not far from the truth." He chuckled and crossed his arms. "This is Sarah's little brother. We all had... an adventure together... long ago. A bit difficult to explain. But I've known Toby since then, and have met him through various stages of his life. He is a special boy."  
  
Ashley spun about to face Jareth. "You know, you remind me'a some guy I almost dated. He was French."  
  
Jareth seemed amused. "Oh, really?"  
  
"Yeah. Actually, we have a sculpture class together... He comes in the room, and, 'Bon jour!' Nice guy. He dresses like... erm. I think like Prince? With a touch of punk rocker."  
  
"Sounds like a unique fellow," Jareth said, shaking his head and smiling.  
  
She seemed too busy fantasizing about the guy to have heard Jareth. "Mmm..." Then she jumped back to reality. "Geeze, I'm just so in love with that guy!"  
  
"Then why did you 'almost date him'?" Jareth asked.  
  
"Uh... Well, you know, I'm not in love in love. He's just so damned cute. Makes me just wanna..."  
  
"Pinch his bum?" Jareth finished for her, laughing.  
  
Her eyes got big and she smiled wide. "Yeah! You got it!" She suddenly grabbed Jareth by the hand and pulled him over to Toby. "Hey, Tobester, gotsta go! I need to take you guys somewhere."  
  
Toby looked up and smiled. "Okay." He turned toward the old men. "Thanks for the game." They smiled wholeheartedly and shook his hand, before Ashely dragged the two guys away.  
  
"Where, pray tell, are we going?" Jareth asked, amused.  
  
"You'll see," was Ashley's curt reply.  
  
They were soon standing in front of this humongous, and very ritzy, male clothing store. Jareth stepped back. "Uh-uh, no thank you. Been there, done that."  
  
Ashley looked like she was enjoying herself too much. "Oh, come on. What I would give to see you in some Calvin Klein, or maybe Gucci." She looked up to the window, and saw some displays for Prada. She was entranced. "Ooooooh. Prada." She then proceeded to drag a very unwilling Jareth into the store. Toby followed from the rear, looking equally mischievous in his gait.  
  
"You're not in on this, are you?" Jareth asked, looking back at Toby. Toby merely shrugged his shoulders and grinned, then stuck his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Fantastic," Jareth mumbled, scowling.  
  
After a couple of hours, Jareth finally convinced Ashley that she couldn't afford the barrel of designer clothing she had selected for him to wear, nor could they spend all their time hovering about a clothing store when there was precious little time left for her to show him the remaining splendors of her city. However, he hadn't escaped unscathed; Ashley had managed three new outfits for Jareth, one of which he was unwillingly donning the linen of as they left the store.  
  
A high, off-white turtleneck collar climbed his throat and offset his pale blonde hair. As he walked, the long brown coat he wore fluttertered in the gale of oncoming evening. His trousers were of the same brown as his heavy linen coat, and were freshly pressed at the seams. He wore the collar of the coat up, and it pressed against the cottony turtleneck. His shoes were a daring and shiny off-white, tying in nicely with his tucked-in shirt. A belt with a silver buckle that looked much like the moon sat at his waist. Ashley walked behind him so she could drool unnoticed.  
  
"Well, are you going to come walk up here with Toby and I, or are you going to stand back there and drool all day?" Jareth asked as he continued to look forward, hands in pockets and a smirk playing on his lips.  
  
Ashley sucked on her bottom lip one last time in adoration before winding alongside the two. "Sorry 'bout that. Can't hide anything from you!" she joked as she tore a longing glance from his backside. She had also chosen to change her attire, and was wearing a blue dress in silk, with a darker chemise underneath. Lavish beads adorned her neck, and large, tinkling earrings hung from her ears. She had even found an opportunity to get her hair blue-streaked by the store hairstylist.  
  
Jareth gave her a sidelong glance. "I have to say, you look lovely in that dress. Perhaps you should consider dressing lavishly every day?"  
  
The unabashed Ashley found occasion to blush. "Really?" she said, smiling shyly. She then wrapped her arm around his. She was totally in love. "You're sooooo sweet. Can I keep you?"  
  
Jareth chuckled warmly, a sadness creeping in on him. "Ah, if only. But I am afraid, dear lady, that I am already claimed. Your offer is however most kind."  
  
"Then I'll just have to pretend you're mine for today!" she said teasingly, unwilling to remove her arm from beneath his. He patted her on the arm warmly with a gloved hand.  
  
"Make believe is a healthy habit. We can indulge for just one evening." With this said, he winked at the city-gawking Toby, and ruffled the young boy's hair, distracting the boy from his reverie.  
  
Toby seemed a bit sad. Jareth gave him a good look before breaking his silence. "What is it, Toby?"  
  
The boy looked up at Jareth with a slightly drooping brow. "I wonder if Sarah's okay."  
  
Jareth gave him a wan smile before looking into the night sky and sighing. "As do I," he mused. "As do I."  
  
Ashley was totally unaware of their conversation as she had just spotted a friend of her. "Jacob!" she cried as she ran and kneeled to hug him at his position on the concrete, completely unmindful of her brand new dress. Colored chalk dusted the edges of the silk dress as she bent down near his sidewalk drawings.  
  
"Ashley?" he returned, looking up at her. He wore a beret and smiled with full pink lips. "Well, I'll be damned, that is you! Haven't seen you since that last class we took together! How have you been?"  
  
"Oh, just great!" she said happily, looking back at Jareth.  
  
"That your new boyfriend?" Jacob said in low tones as he smiled knowingly at Ashley.  
  
"Just for today," she whispered as she rose to bring Jareth forth to meet her friend.  
  
"Is this the sculptor you were speaking of?" Jareth asked quietly with an amused smile.  
  
"Oh no!" Ashley exclaimed, almost dragging him toward Jacob. "This is another guy I'm in love with!" She said it just loud enough so Jacob could hear. Jacob and Jareth smiled at her knowingly. "Jacob, this is Jareth. He's one of Marlena's friends from out of town. I was just showing him the sites."  
  
"From Europe?" Jacob asked. "You look a bit German."  
  
"No," Jareth answered, unsure of what to say. "I'm - um - from England."  
  
"Ah, that was my second guess!" Jacob exclaimed, completely unaware of Jareth's delayed response. "Your first time in New York?"  
  
"Yes, it is," Jareth answered as he shook Jacob's dusty hand. Jacob looked at his hand with sudden understanding, and quickly brandished a small towel.  
  
"Like it so far?" Jacob asked, wiping the chalk from his hands belatedly.  
  
"Very much so. There are many interesting things here that I have not seen before."  
  
Jacob laughed. "Hey, Ashley, you should take him to see the Blue Man Group, those guys are a riot! Definitely not something you'd see in merry old England!"  
  
"Oh, whatever, Jacob!" Ashely countered. "They got elves and faeries in England, leprechauns too! He doesn't need to see our human imitations of blue fae!"  
  
Jacob cleared his throat playfully. "Erm, Ashley... Leprechauns are from Scotland. Don't want to insult him, ya know..." He smirked at his own wit.  
  
The girl slugged him playfully on the shoulder. "He don't care!"  
  
As the two chattered, Jareth admired Jacob's chalk drawings. "These are quite good, Jacob. Do you only do chalk drawings, or are you into other media?"  
  
Jacob turned his attention from Ashley and looked down at the landscape drawing with Jareth. "Oh, these? Thanks... I seem to get a couple bucks here and there for them." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the cut off fingers of his gloves revealing chalk-stained digits. "Ah, I paint mostly. Sometimes I do a bit of graphic design to get a little cash, but my love is painting, to be honest."  
  
Jareth ignored his lack of understanding of the notion of graphic design and went straight to that in which he was interested. "Ah, another painter. Yes, painting is certainly something one can be passionate about. Although, chalks are quite nice, as well. And you are masterful with them." He admired the mountain scene which Jacob had so well carved from the harsh concrete.  
  
"Do you paint, too?" Jacob asked.  
  
"Yes, I do. It is what I miss most since I left home. Well, that, and the people I left behind."  
  
"Well, then, why don't you have a go? The sidewalk is practically free..." Jacob handed the box of chalks over to Jareth.  
  
"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly..." Jareth said, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he accepted the offering.  
  
"Sure you could. Go ahead. I love to see a fellow artist at work."  
  
"Yeah, go for it Jareth!" Ashley prodded. "Gosh, I didn't know you painted, too! You're just full of surprises."  
  
Jareth looked over at Toby, who was smiling. "Well, it's Toby's day, so let's ask him what he wants, shall we?" Jareth said.  
  
"I'd like to see you draw," Toby said shyly, obviously fascinated by the prospect. "I bet you could draw all sorts of neat places," he said, almost as an afterthought.  
  
Jareth caught his drift, and kneeled carefully. "Very well then," he mused. "The decision has been made by young Master Toby."  
  
Ashley let out a very undainty guffaw and elbowed Toby playfully. "Master Toby!" she blurted. "What a laugh!"  
  
Toby chuckled quietly, too enraptured by Jareth's task to take much notice of her humor.  
  
And so Jareth began to draw. He was swift and masterful, drawing with skilled ease. Onlookers noticing his concentrated demeanor stopped nearby to watch his work. A small crowd gathered, and, within a matter of minutes, Jareth had completed a full block of sidewalk. A woman at the forefront of the audience gasped quietly. Jareth looked up at her from his kneeled position, his hand still touching the concrete through the use of the stick of chalk. His mismatched eyes looked at her with concern from beneath sleepy and mesmerized lids. She looked into his eyes so intensely, that he wondered if she might have met him somehow before. "Are you well, Madame?" he asked, noting that she held her hand to her chest.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she managed, transfixed. "It just seems like you drew... a place that I've dreamed about for years. Is it a copy of a painting? I've always thought I must have seen it in a painting as a child, because I don't know where I ever saw it before."  
  
Jareth looked down at his work. He had been in such a state of Zen that he hadn't taken notice of the content. It was a verdant field, with dusk creeping in on the horizon. A peculiarly shaped tree sat at the center of the field, reflecting pink and orange hues from the sky. A young girl with red hair could be seen far away, dancing through the grasses. A doe looked on from the outskirts of the field.  
  
He looked back up at her. The woman seemed strangely similar to the girl in the painting, the red hair identical. "No, Madame. I'm afraid this is completely from imagination."  
  
The woman seemed more disturbed by the prospect. She handed him ten dollars, said "thank you," then hurriedly walked away.  
  
He slowly turned to look at Ashley, his gaze lingering on the retreating woman. The crowd slowly dissipated, but not completely. Ashley merely shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"That's beautiful," Jacob offered. "And so strange that it was of her dream."  
  
Toby also seemed transfixed by the drawing. "You're really fast," he commented.  
  
"Draw another," Jacob begged, prodding Jareth slightly with his hand to continue.  
  
Intrigued by the initial response his drawing had received, Jareth put chalk to ground once again, this time drawing smaller pieces, as quickly as his hand would allow. Passers-by would stop and gaze, amazed by something that they would not mention. The ideas seemed to flow non-stop from Jareth's mind, as he presented one dreamscape after another, and sometimes one nightmare after another. Jacob put his beret by the drawings, and it filled to the brim with money within a half hour.  
  
"I don't know what you're doing, but it's like magic," Jacob commented.  
  
"Yes it is," Ashley said in a whisper, giving Jareth a knowing look.  
  
It didn't take long for Jareth to realize what was happening. He had spent so long using his paintings and drawings as a medium with which to escape into his dreams, that he had somehow tuned what magic that remained in him to the skill of painting dreams. Each person that passed was somehow mentally connected to him, unconsciously using him as a channel. What was more interesting that many of the images that he created through this strange channel seemed directly from the Underground.  
  
"My home is just reality's dream," he mused quietly.  
  
"What was that?" Jacob asked, still transfixed on Jareth's artwork.  
  
"Oh, nothing," Jareth said, finding it difficult to shake the strangeness of his last thought. "Here," he said pensively, "let me just try one more, and we shall be off."  
  
He took the chalk to a task he had done many a time before, and attempted to draw Sarah's dream. Perhaps it would help him figure out where she was. He closed his mind to all thoughts, and found the images that lie before him oddly scattered and blurred. Focusing his thoughts further, he separated the picture into parts, and realized soon that three paintings had filled his mind.  
  
He drew them hurriedly, so as not to forget them. Then he and the others sat and marveled at their content.  
  
The top showed a woman in glowing white, covering her eyes from the onslaught of a light-eating demon with bright red eyes. The bottom depicted the same woman in stark black standing beside a glowing and caged dove. And, in the center was the image from his dream; Aboveground and Underground separated, almost reflections of each other, a crow flying on the horizon of the upper world, and a white dove flying high above the horizon of the lower.  
  
"These are good," a black woman with a shaved head said as she admired the work of a suddenly very distracted Jareth. "Hey Jacob - see your friend has made you quite a bit of money today."  
  
Jacob still seemed amazed. He rose to hug the woman. "Hi Gail." Looking down at the sidewalk, he replied, "Yeah, he certainly puts my work to shame."  
  
"No, he just looks like an experienced painter. And obviously still engrossed in his work..." she said teasingly toward Jareth, who was still pondering the drawing.  
  
He caught on to her comment, and looked up with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, it's just that... the drawing surprised even me."  
  
Gail seemed taken aback at the face that greeted her, and it took her a second to recover.  
  
"Oh no, not another frightened woman?"  
  
Gail caught her bearings and said, "Oh, no, it's not that... Wait, what are you doing to frighten women?" she said to Jacob jokingly.  
  
"Oh, nothing, it's just that Jareth's drawings seem to have touched a chord with people passing by."  
  
"I can certainly see why," Gail answered.  
  
"You seemed startled a moment ago," Jareth prodded as he rose from the ground and finally brushed himself off.  
  
Gail chuckled lightly. "Oh, no, just for a second, you looked just like my... erm... boss."  
  
Ashley laughed at her. "Yeah, your boss."  
  
"What's funny?" Jareth asked, looking at Ashley's amused expression.  
  
"Oh, she just refrains from saying her boss's name, since he's pretty famous, and she doesn't like to seem uppity or anything. You probably know him."  
  
"Ah, I would guess not. I don't keep up with celebrities," Jareth answered.  
  
"He's a musician," Jacob said with a smile.  
  
"Oh, one of those..." Jareth said somewhat jokingly.  
  
"You look a little preoccupied," Ashley offered, concerned about the deepening wrinkles in Jareth's brow.  
  
"Um, yes, I would suppose so," Jareth answered, playing with his goatee. "Actually, I hate to cut the evening short, but I really need to see Marlena, if you don't mind."  
  
"Sure," Ashley answered, obviously concerned over his sudden looks of worry. "Hey," she said to Jacob and Gail, "gotta go. It was nice seeing you guys."  
  
As she went to shake Gail's hand, Gail said, "If it's okay, I'd like to go with you. Jacob's been telling me I need to check out Marlena's place for awhile, and I'm tired of going to old Bogey for herbs for my spells. He's getting to be a real pain in my neck."  
  
"Okay," Ashley said. "I'm sure she'll love the business. Tag along!" With that said, they waved good-bye to Jacob as he closed up shop, and headed back toward Marlena's shop. Jareth was in quite a state of consternation, as was Toby, who knew exactly who the subject of two of Jareth's last three drawings was. "I hope Sarah's okay," he mumbled under his breath as he tagged along behind the group. 


	29. Chapter 28: Faery Friends

CHAPTER XXVIII: Faery Friends  
  
The decision to go into the Mist of Dreams was one not taken lightly by Sage. Representatives of the seven kingdoms all offered their hand in the journey, but none too reluctantly. Even as Sage spoke to each one, he could tell the trepidation in their voices; as if the horror of the previous day had not been enough to traumatize any creature of the Underground. Yet, it was their duty to serve their respective kingdoms bravely and without a hint of fear, so they boldly laid their swords down before him in a sign of allegiance. Among the surprise, Sage could detect relief, as he told each one to go home.  
  
Sage was wise to the dangers of the forest. The greater the numbers entering, that much greater the numbers that wouldn't leave. It would take individuals of great personal determination and emotional will to enter the Mists, and therefore an army served him little. He wouldn't even know what an army would be up against until he found Kaleb's fortress in the Mists. For all he knew, the man possessed no army whatsoever, and his destruction lie only in a subtle pushing of a psychological button. He could only hope this was true.  
  
And so the small group had traveled by the wings of the Spangore to the edges of the Mists; Sage, Ludo, Benedick, Mandelbrot, and Eepwot. Mandelbrot saw it as his duty to come along, since his king was one of the likely prisoners. Sage tried to counsel him against it, urging him that they would save Eberon if he indeed was prisoner. Mandelbrot fought deftly against Sage's counsel, finally stating that it was his responsibility, no matter what a licidious larva he considered the young king to be. Sage smiled broadly at this, and welcomed his old companion on the journey, happy to be close to a fellow from his old life, even if it was in dire circumstances that they traveled. Eepwot too was advised to remain in the elfin city, but was just too plain crazy to heed any warnings, and saw a potential party in the whole ordeal.  
  
"You're mad, do you know that?" Sage said to the fiery.  
  
"Aw, c'mon. At the end of everything, a party's waiting. This is my life's creed, aye!" The fiery sauntered beside Sage in a manner befitting of a spaghetti noodle.  
  
"But what if it's a party minus one fiery gent named Eepwot?" Sage rationalized.  
  
"Oh, no no," Eepwot said emphatically with a vigorous shake of his head. "Eepwot is at every party."  
  
"Oh, come on," Sage said with a chuckle. "Surely you cannot make it to every party?"  
  
"Sure's I can," Eepwot said, pulling off his strange ornamental belt. He seemed to untangle it, stretching it out before him to show a chain of ornamentation big enough to walk through. "This thing is my party transporter. Wherever there's a party, it takes me there. Sometimes I only get's to stay a moment, but I goes!"  
  
Sage gave him a sidelong glance. "Really? Aren't you missing a few parties right now?"  
  
Eepwot put it back on and said, "Hmm. Naw, I'm just pullin' yer leg. This just be my belt." The fiery man winked at Sage and started jump-roping with the jingling belt.  
  
"Ah, you fieries are full of mischief," Sage said, smiling.  
  
"Naw, everyone's full of mischief. We just got it down to an art," said Eepwot before doing something very un-fierylike and getting serious. He put his belt back on, and continued his spaghetti walk. They were right on the edge of the Mists.  
  
Everyone got suddenly quiet. Voices chittered from the depths, and Ludo cocked a floppy ear to the sound. He looked around with a wrinkled brow, then looked down at Sage, as if to say, "We're going in there?"  
  
Sage understood his anxiety immediately, and gave Ludo a pat on his enormous hand. "There's a good fellow," Sage said. "It'll be alright."  
  
Ludo inhaled deeply, and let out a deep sigh as he looked again into the forest depths.  
  
"So, this is it, eh my friend?" Benedick said, wringing his paws. His ears were perked to a razor-sharp point, and even the straight hairs in his ear canal seemed to be twitching in search of strange sounds. "We are damned crazy," he added.  
  
Mandelbrot straightened his luminous robes before looking at Benedick. "We were all damned crazy before we got here, my friend. That's the only reason we considered going. But it will be alright; I have a good feeling about this all."  
  
"Oh, don't tell me that you're an optimist, too?" Benedick said, giving a mock-disdainful glance at both Mandelbrot and Sage before rolling his eyes. "You elves and your optimism. Blech." He seemed to retch at the notion.  
  
"Oh no, not at all," Mandelbrot said. "See, I plan ahead. I left my last Will and Testament before we even began this journey. If I die, you fellows can look forward to some drunken debauchery, for I will have nothing of sad looks at my last rites."  
  
Eepwot nudged Sage. "See, I's said there's a party at the end of everything."  
  
Sage took a deep breath. "I know your intent is to lighten the mood, Mandelbrot, but I'm afraid all this talk of death is doing nothing for my resolve. Why don't we just get to it?"  
  
A simultaneous deep breath was had by all as every set of eyes gazed warily into the Mist of Dreams.  
  
"Right then," Benedick said, fingering the sheathed sword at his side nervously. "Let's get at it."  
  
Sarah soon learned that the Kaleb's castle itself was malleable, and its form subject to the wishes of any powerful user of magic. She had created for herself a study to her own tastes, cozy and decadently filled with tattered bits of extravagant and richly-colored cloth.  
  
In what looked very much like a source-less holographic display, Sarah had magically conjured all of the writings of the Bookkeeper, as she knew he was the most thorough source of information in the entire Ungerground. Here it was that she would wile away her hours until she discovered exactly how she would make her presence known back on Earth.  
  
When Claw entered the room, Sarah's feet were propped up on a desk of a design mixed eclectically between Scandinavian and 17th Century Italian. Her legs were tightly wrapped in shiny leather, ending in high black stilleto boots that sat with their own arrogance upon the surface of the desk. She wore a long-sleeved jacket made of burnished red silks, tied at the waste with a thin burgundy sash, opening over her right shoulder and breast. Under the jacket she wore a burdundy turtleneck made of a somewhat transparent velvet. Her dark hair was glossy and ominously straight, falling in rivulets down her back and over the chair she sat in.  
  
She did not tear her eyes away from the holographic documents in front of her, though it was obvious by the way she suddenly crossed her legs over the desk that she was aware of his presence.  
  
"I see that her Majesty has brought an element of her home world to our own," Claw said in a quiet rumble, glancing at Sarah from drooping eyelids.  
  
Sarah did not respond, but continued through the documents, weighing several thoughts in her mind as she did so. Claw had a dark evil under his feathers, while their surface carried many textures and colors that gave him a regal and heavenly presence. He was spindly in areas, and contrastingly strong in others. His beak came to an elegant point, and his eyes were silver. Sarah had begun to find the ensign very intriguing, and knew there was a story rich as a tapestry attached to this bird.  
  
Claw continued to walk gracefully about the room on his two legs, bracelets jangling on his wrists as he did so. Sarah gave him a brief glance, looking down at the razor-sharp and steel-veneered claws that were the bird's namesake. For a bird, he seemed awfully fond of refined jewelry. It suited him well.  
  
"Making plans to betray Kaleb so soon?" he asked as he looked over her shoulder.  
  
Sarah's eyes continued to peer at her work from beneath suddenly slitted eyelids. But she could not answer him. She did not know the reasoning for his questions, and she knew that the walls had ears.  
  
The large bird pretended to observe her studies intently for a few more moments before saying, "Hmm, interesting. But it's going to take much longer that way. A lot of philosophical rhetoric to sort through. However, you could just ask me, and I might have the answers for you."  
  
Sarah paused and looked at him from the corner of her eye. She could sense his sincerity, and swiveled her boots from the top of the desk and rose. Then she made a sweeping motion with her hand, and the room was enshrouded in a strange, gray mist.  
  
"It looks as if you are the one making plans to betray Kaleb, Claw," Sarah said, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow. A balcony materialized in the mist, and she walked out onto it, Claw in tow. "You realize that I am meant to be Kaleb's new friend. It's not in your best interest to start such conversations with me. I might tell on you." She gripped the cold stone banister and looked out into the gray fog of the Mist of Dreams. Something in her change had made her able to see and think so many things at once, as if she were now a supercomputer. As she continued her awareness of Claw and their conversation, her eyes squinted, and she looked deeply into the forest. She saw, miles away, Granen and her other half wading hopelessly through the forest. A smirk played on her lips. If they remained lost forever, she would never have to again contend with the "better" half of herself.  
  
"I think I know your intent," Claw remarked, ruffling his feathers slightly. "You are stronger than Kaleb realized. I think Jareth never underestimated you, but that it was Kaleb who could never bring himself to believe a woman might be more powerful than him."  
  
Sarah snorted. "How right you are." She squinted more deeply and saw past Granen and the other Sarah, to the outskirts of the Mists. Sage and an entourage were preparing to enter, no doubt in an attempt to save her. "Idiots," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
"Your Majesty?" Claw asked, aware suddenly of her distraction. "Do you see someone out there?" he asked as he followed her gaze, which ended, for him, in gray nothingness.  
  
"Yes, but they are far away. Time may be growing short, though I doubt they will ever make it through the Mists." She turned to face Claw. "I, however, try my best not to fall into the trap of underestimating people, Claw." She crossed her arms and began to pace. "And you have been smart to keep your true self hidden from Kaleb. Tell me, what will you get out of coming over to my side?"  
  
"Not much, probably. A new way to pass the time. I've grown tired of Kaleb and his little mission of revenge. Or whatever it is supposed to be. Power, I suppose. I did not envision spending the rest of my days in these gray Mists when I first offered my allegiance to him. I've served him well, and bear no malice towards him, but I have a feeling that you would have a more interesting way of spending the time in mind. And I can see that your power far outweighs his own."  
  
"Tell me, how did your alliance with Kaleb start?" Sarah asked.  
  
"Out of boredom, really. I left the Spangores several years ago because I really didn't fit in with their militaristic style of life. Just went off on my own."  
  
"I suspected you were a Spangore," Sarah remarked, "though you look a bit different from the other Spangores. Your build, and your feathers... Very different from all the Spangores I've met."  
  
"Ah, yes, a little magic can go a long way in changing one's appearance," Claw said with a hint of a smirk playing on his beak.  
  
"A bird after my own heart," Sarah oozed. "Tell me how you met Kaleb."  
  
"Actually, I met the Amethyst first. I saw you long ago... fighting atop a plateau with Jareth. I am the one who seized the shard at the base of the plateau those years ago. Kaleb by then was strong enough to communicate from outside the stone. As I had nothing else to do, I took the Amethyst to a sorcerer, who returned Kaleb to human form."  
  
"You must bear some of the Amethyst's power," Sarah said. "If you touched it, you have some control over it."  
  
"Yes, meager though it may be. I'm sure that's the primary reason Kaleb keeps me around. And you. That is, until he finds a way to re-consolidate the power."  
  
"I think you're right," Sarah said, briefly gazing over the holographic documents that had become much less interesting all of a sudden. "I think you're telling me the truth, Claw. And I would be pleased if you would join in my plans, that is, if you have something to offer in the way of suggestions."  
  
"I'll do my best. What do you have in mind?" Claw asked as he sauntered near her.  
  
"I am going to go Aboveground. I want to have power over both worlds. I've never been satisfied with the workings of this world or my old world; but together, they would be a perfect mix. Much more interesting."  
  
Claw seemed intrigued. He leaned in closer. "Yes, I think you are correct. It would be an interesting feat."  
  
"Now the question is, how?" Sarah motioned towards the scrolling documents of the Bookkeeper.  
  
Claw did his own measure of pacing before he turned around and answered. "It's simple, really. Something I actually accidentally learned from Kaleb." He repositioned his wings as if to become more comfortable before going into his narrative. "In a way, our world is only the dreams of those Aboveground, and vice versa. We are each other's dream. Yet, both worlds refuse to acknowledge the existence of the other. I don't really know why; seems the hard split between worlds happened so long ago, I can't begin to imagine. Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. But we were once more intimately joined. That is one of the characteristics of the Mists of Dreams. Those Aboveground who are more closely tied to this world in spirit will walk here in their dreams. I have seen them occasionally, though they are often too hazy to make out. And I am sure there is a place such as the Mists Aboveground. A place where both worlds join. There are probably other such places. Actually, Kaleb only knows of the faery qualities of the Mists; he's never really considered crossing to the other world, because he has no interest in it, nor in anything that does not fall into his mission."  
  
"Hmm," Sarah considered. "You've done your homework. You're right, there are other places like that. Some of them are deliberately created by sorcerers, I think."  
  
"To combine worlds - now that's going to be the trick. I'm not sure how you would do that. First you would have to find a place of power Aboveground. Darker powers, preferably, and densely populated."  
  
Sarah smiled devilishly. "Hypnotism. Or a magical form of it. The key will be through the mind, through dreams. Bring the subconscious thoughts of the Underground to the forefront, for a large number of people, and the worlds will begin to meld again."  
  
"Yes, that might work. But how do you reach a world full of people? And how will you know where to do it?"  
  
"You forget, Claw... This is my home world you speak of. I have the perfect place in mind, and always have. A densely populated city where technology runs rampant over the lives of men and women, men and women who seem to covet being ruled by the city and its dark powers. A virtual satellite to all television in the world. New York City."  
  
Claw nodded his head. "It sounds like the perfect place." He plucked a feather from his wing with his beak, then said, "What will we do with Kaleb?"  
  
"Leave him here, trapped in his own dungeon. He'll be powerless to stop it, once it has begun."  
  
"What do you think will happen, if this all works?" Claw asked dryly.  
  
"I have no idea. Should be interesting, huh?" Sarah said, winking her eye conspiratorily.  
  
Claw grinned more widely than should have been possible, his eyes mere glinting slits. "Fun is the word I would use. I haven't had fun in ages."  
  
The wind had a strange way of finding its way through the seemingly impenetrable mortar in the stone walls of the east wing. It was that much stranger to hear these deep sighs and moans of air in a room so deep into the center of the wing, and so far underground. Eerie as it was, Hoggle did not let the morbid tones of the air distract him from his meddling in the affairs of the afterlife.  
  
However much he wished to ignore it, though, it gave him chills.  
  
"Confounded machine, work!" he yelled, kicking the strange, rusty contraption at the direct location where he had placed his last bolt. "I swears, machines isn't worth the troubles."  
  
But he knew he felt differently, despite his words of anger. A little apprehension tugged at the back of Hoggle's mind, and it enhanced his exasperation with the lack of performance on the part of the machine. The longer it took, the more he doubted his mission. He knew if he didn't get it working soon, he would realize just what he was doing and want to give up.  
  
Stepping back, he looked at his creation. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and admired the structure. It was almost the frame of a mirror, looking like the ancient sculpture of an industrial society. It was actually very beautiful, despite the rust and odd bits of machinery he had acquired in place of those which the building guide had actually called for. Quite an awesome task for a dwarf blessed with no inclination towards artistry.  
  
"Guess'n I better say the words again," he mumbled as he moved toward the aged book that held a similar image on its ragged pages to that of the device Hoggle had built. He bent over the document and looked up at the creation, chanting the incantion as awkwardly as one ungifted with magic might. This time his pronunciation was subtly different than last, and something began to happen. A sort of shimmering emanated from the center of the frame, barely discernible. This gave Hoggle hope, and he shifted his weight nervously, inching back from the device a bit in anticipation. He chanted the incantation again as before, louder this time. The shimmering grew.  
  
Hoggle didn't have to repeat himself. The light in the room grew, along with the moaning of the wind. The dwarf shrank in apprehension, and covered his eyes with his small arm to shield himself from the growing brilliance coming from the portal.  
  
As the light subsided, Hoggle could see what had actually happened. The frame of the portal had formed a rippling, watery mirror at its center, where the silhouettes of two figures were represented. It took a few moments for the image to develop further, progressing from a sort of state of inverse, dark colors. It was an image of his mother and father. They were both smiling, especially Mr. Hiddlebury; something quite uncharacteristic of the old man. Though they still bore some of the wrinkles they had earned in life, they seemed much more youthful, their skin glowing happily. Hoggle was overcome by their strange, transcendental beauty, and began to cry. However, he was struck more by their actual presence than their beauty alone.  
  
"Mama... Papa," he managed to stumble out. "It's really you..."  
  
They smiled back at him, and his mother turned to Mr. Hiddlebury and said, "He's as stubborn as his pa."  
  
"I know, he just won't let go fer nothin'," Mr. Hiddlebury answered jokingly.  
  
Hoggle didn't waste time, he got straight to the question that was on his mind. "Can you... come back? Come back home?"  
  
Mrs. Hiddlebury's sourceless reflection gave her son a wan smile. "I'm afraid not, son. This's our home, now."  
  
"Where are yous?" Hoggle asked, still doing his best to bite back the tears.  
  
"On th'next plane," Mr. Hiddlebury answered.  
  
"What does that mean?" Hoggle asked, almost pleading.  
  
"You'll understand one day, 'oggle," Mr. Hiddlebury answered, giving his wife a sidelong glance that belied his worry over his son. "Too difficult to explain now. You's just needs ta know that yer Ma and I are doin' just fine."  
  
"But I want you to be with me!" Hoggle shouted. "It's not fair that you both left me! Ma and I should at least be together... Ma should come back 'ere with me!"  
  
"But why should I, Hoggle?" Mrs. Hiddlebury queried gently. "You don't really need me."  
  
"Yes I does!" Hoggle broke down. "I'm lonely!"  
  
The confession seemed to echo in the room, an admission of his soul that surprised even Hoggle himself. His parents looked at a loss, unable to put comforting arms around him.  
  
"I knows you are, son," Hoggle Senior offered. "I knows you are."  
  
"But don't forget," his mother added, "you still'ave friends to comfort you. You don' need to be lonely, son. Dontcha ferget the friends ya do have witcha now. Be happy fer us. We're able to rest where we are. We're at peace."  
  
"My friend is gone. Sarah is gone. I can't get through this wid'out her."  
  
"Sure you can!" Mr. Hiddlebury exclaimed. "You gots other friends here."  
  
As he said this, he looked past Hoggle's shoulder, where Vindar and Isabelle stood, having slowly and quietly entered the room. They seemed awestruck by what Hoggle had accomplished, and only stood aside, transfixed as well as deliberately careful in allowing Hoggle to continue in his conversation without interruption from them.  
  
"Besides, son," Mrs. Hiddlebury explained, bringing Hoggle back to the tete-a-tete between the living and deceased, "you need to let us go so that you can get Sarah back. She's in a heap o'trouble right now. It's yer duty as'er friend to help'er out."  
  
"That's really why we're here, 'oggle," Mr. Hiddlebury said, somber. "It ain't normally allowed fer those that've passed on to visit those they left behind... but there's great trouble brewin' Aboveground and Underground."  
  
"The Guardian asked us to come to you, son," Mrs. Hiddlebury said solemnly.  
  
"The Guardian?" Hoggle seemed dumbfounded. Even more shocking than the presence of his dead parents was mention of the Guardian. Like most, Hoggle knew little of the legendary Guardian, only that he stood at the gates between Underground and Aboveground, and that his father had had a mysterious relationship with the fae. The Guardian had inadvertently been Hoggle Senior's source for knowledge Aboveground; as the old dwarf was the one willing to write the histories, he had been bestowed the honor of learning about the other world directly.  
  
"Yes. It's time you were given the key, 'oggle." Mr. Hiddlebury looked down at his son, his eyebrows curving inward and nearly hiding his large, somber eyes.  
  
"I'm gonna meet th'Guardian?" Hoggle asked, his face the epitome of awe.  
  
"Tha's not how it works, m'boy," Hoggle Senior chuckled. "You'll learn in time. Th'Guardian does have a mission for ya, though. An' it won't be easy."  
  
"What about Sarah?" Hoggle asked.  
  
"It involves Sarah," Mr. Hiddlebury answered.  
  
"It'll be a long journey," Mrs. Hiddlebury added.  
  
"What does I do?" Hoggle asked, his eyes widening with the unexpected turn of this encounter.  
  
"Many things is gonna happen today, son. Lotsa strange things. You's gotta keep yer focus, cause you are a major key in unraveling that which'll be woven by nightfall."  
  
"Remember Kaleb, son?" Mrs. Hiddlebury asked. "He's the one who done captured Sarah."  
  
"He's changed'er. She's been torn apart, into the two sides of her conscience. You must find the White Sarah, the one who is her essence of light, an'bring Kaleb to'er."  
  
"And a spell," Mrs. Hiddlebury added.  
  
"He's... harmed Sarah?" the dwarf began to tremble in anger. "I swears, if I find him, I'll kill'm!" Hoggle grumbled.  
  
"You can't do that, son," Mr. Hiddlebury said. "If he dies before the spell can be cast, you'll kill Jareth too."  
  
"Fine by me!" Hoggle shouted. "Wait... why's you protectin' Jareth? You hate'im too!"  
  
Mr. Hiddlebury smiled knowingly at his son. "You sees things different on this side, 'oggle. Sarah needs Jareth. She needs him if she's ever gonna be normal again."  
  
"I don' understand," Hoggle grunted, crossing his arms. "I don' believe yer actually my Pa."  
  
"Trust me, son, he's still yer Pa," Mrs. Hiddlebury answered, laughing.  
  
"I'll always be yer Pa... Now's I can keep an eye on ya all the time!" Hoggle Senior joked.  
  
After a pause, and an unwilling and slight grin, Hoggle finally said, "Where do I get this spell?"  
  
"You'll know when you find it," Mrs. Hiddlebury said.  
  
"Where will I find it? Aboveground? Underground?" Hoggle asked, increasingly exasperated by the increasing lack of sense the whole ordeal was making.  
  
"Neither," Hoggle Senior answered. "As I said, son, things is gonna happen."  
  
"Then where does I find Kaleb?"  
  
"He's in the Mist of Dreams... You gotsta get him soon, or it'll be too late," Mr. Hiddlebury replied.  
  
"How's'm I supposed to get to th'Mists so fast?" Hoggle nearly bellowed.  
  
"We'll take ya there, son. But you must be leavin' now."  
  
"How am I gonna capture'm? I ain't got no powers, no weapons, no nothin'!" Hoggle protested.  
  
Suddenly a wooden medallion appeared on the table before Hoggle. The dwarf picked it up and inspected it. It was carved in a circular shape, and had an inset piece of onyx at the center, engraved into the silhouette of a raven. Turning it over, he discovered a set of runes.  
  
Vindar came closer to look over his shoulder. "It's a morphing talisman," he exclaimed.  
  
"What does that mean?" Hoggle asked. "What does it do?"  
  
"One can never tell. The creator decides how it will perform. You won't know until you actually use it," Vindar answered.  
  
"You must use the talisman to capture Kaleb," Mr. Hiddlebury explained. "Once you capture him, you must find White Sarah an'bring her and Kaleb to her other half."  
  
"What about Jareth?" Hoggle asked.  
  
"He'll find you."  
  
"I s'pose I don't get any useful information then?" Hoggle asked, snorting. His mystical encounter with his dead parents was quickly turning from an experience of great joy and wonder to the dreaded expectation of a long, grueling, and seemingly impossible chore.  
  
"I'm 'fraid that's all we can tells ya, m'boy," Hoggle Senior answered, belying none of the frustration that often came upon him in life.  
  
Isabelle came forward and put a reassuring hand on Hoggle's shoulder. "We will come with you, Hoggle. We can help you on your journey."  
  
It took a moment, but Hoggle almost seemed to smile. "I'd much appreciate that."  
  
"There's no way we would expect you to do this alone, Hoggle," Vindar added. "I'm very glad we found you before you were to leave."  
  
"Oh dear!" a voice came from behind the door. Damion made himself visible, and inched out from the concealment of the mahogany door, almost shivering. "This is not good! Oh dear! What will I tell Lady Leah? And Her Majesty, Sarah! In danger! What a frightful day this has been!"  
  
Vindar came toward the bird-man and tried to comfort him. "You will tell Lady Leah exactly what we are doing, and that we will be alright. We can save Sarah, do not fret, good fellow."  
  
"Have you been there the entire time?" Isabelle asked.  
  
"Erm, I followed you..." Damion managed to stammer out. "I wondered what had happened to Master Hoggle, and I, erm... I was curious." He seemed a little sheepish. Finally, he added. "Alright, in all truth, I knew since this morning that Master Hoggle would attempt to revive his parents. I saw that the book was missing."  
  
"You didn't tell us?" Vindar said, a little surprised by the bird's behavior.  
  
"I wanted to see if he could do it," he admitted, speaking in a whisper.  
  
"It's just as well," Vindar said. "It is a fortunate turn of events."  
  
"We must leave now," Mrs. Hiddlebury said, the form of the ghostly couple beginning to waver with the dimming magic of the portal. "We can't be wastin' anymore time."  
  
"Yes, you are right," Vindar said. "Damion, go inform Leah as to what has occurred. Let her know that all will be well."  
  
Hoggle put the talisman into his pocket, then looked up at his parents, a bit of uncertainty playing upon his face. "Guess we gotta go, then." He said resolutely. He was the first to step through the portal. Isabelle and Vindar were swiftly in tow.  
  
Almost instantly, the light that once emanated from the portal fizzled out. Damion stood before it, transfixed, and trembling in anticipation of the predicted doom. "Oh my... What will happen to us? This is going to be a very bad day."  
  
He gripped his close companion, the castle treasury journal, closer to his chest and slowly meandered from the room, trembling in his journey to the throne room, where he would relay the news to Leah. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."  
  
It was sudden, and quite unexpected. The party of five entered the forest of the Mists, and each was instantly isolated, engulfed in fog. Each had made attempts to call out into the Mist for the others, and though, in physical space, they were no more than a foot apart, the illusion of the Mists made them unable to see or hear one another. So they each trod forward, seemingly alone, to face whatever lie before them.  
  
Sage was not too alarmed by the sudden loss of his companions. He had expected something odd to occur at some point in their journey, and it might has well have been from the very beginning. He braced himself for the faery lies he knew he was to face, and walked forward resolutely.  
  
Female voices seemed to call to him from the depths, and he did his best to resist their enchantment. Faery faces emerged, swimming through the Mists, smiling at him knowingly. They seemed to be swimming away from him, towards a certain point in space. He walked toward that point, unwitting, even in his resolute strength, to the fact that he was subtly succumbing. He continued to travel onward, squinting his eyes as the shadow of a figure seemed to await him in the distance. As he was not yet sure that which he might be expected to face, he allowed himself to continue on, to find out exactly who this mysterious figure in the Mists might be. Yet, deep down, he knew.  
  
Her radiant red hair seemed to be a source of light in and of itself. She was decked in a vibrant green, sheer, suggesting the beauty of the naked form beneath. Her deep green eyes were almost fae, her angular face enhanced with earthy hues. It was Marlena. She was holding her hand out to her beloved Sage.  
  
"Come to me, Sage," she beckoned.  
  
He only took one more step forward. His eyes sparkled in remembrance of this beauty. The current of swelling love and need that he swam against was maddening; yet he held his ground.  
  
"I - I know that you are only an illusion," he replied. "I must not follow you. I love you... but I know that I cannot have you again."  
  
Her eyes showed no sign of malignance, and she kept her elegant hand stretched out toward him. A knowing smile on her face, she answered, "You are correct, Sage. This body is merely an illusion. But the spirit it defines is very real."  
  
Sage smiled deliberately, gradually finding the faery magic easier to resist. "Ah, faery logic is astounding. And I am to find this a loophole that would be simple to go along with? I know what my test is, fae. I know that I must let go of my lost love. I know that I must resist you, else I shall not be able to leave the Mists."  
  
"Do not be so quick in deciding your test, Sage," the woman answered, walking closer to him. "Elf though you may be, you shall never understand the works of fae."  
  
The voices in the mists grew louder, resounding the words, "Follow your love to find another love."  
  
Somehow, the words rang a trueness that Sage would not have expected. Part of him shouted a warning, that these voices were tempting him to his doom, yet his instincts spoke differently, saying that he had somehow encountered truth within these faery mists, and that he must take the outstretched hand, this fae who had taken on the form of his beloved Marlena.  
  
"One that you love awaits you in the Mists. And one beyond. It is time, Sage," the woman whispered, mere inches from the elf. She bent down and brushed her soft lips against his angular cheeks. "It is time. Hear my truth."  
  
She rose, and, as she did, Sage noticed that he had unconsciously placed his hand within her own. She walked facing him, not needing eyes to find her destination. Sage had allowed himself to be enchanted, yet it felt right; somehow, it felt as if all would be well. He swelled inside and allowed himself to fall into the flow of the faux Marlena's gait, uncaring for any doom or splendor that awaited him at the end of the journey. At her touch, he could only feel true contentment, a perfect balance only possible in a faery realm.  
  
Ludo's face contorted into an expression of confusion as he found himself suddenly alone in the dark forest. "Sage..." he moaned softly, knowing deep down that he would not be heard. He felt suddenly frightened, afraid for his friends, and afraid for himself.  
  
The simple beast slowly began to trudge forward, his large head turning about in his travels, his eyes seeking out his companions. His lumbered on, his fur swaying from side to side.  
  
He traveled on, his fear increasing at his continuing lonesomeness. He remembered that Sage had told him to feel no fear, that the only danger he would face would be if he were to allow himself to be afraid. He tried to be brave, but he could not help the simple anxiety that welled in him, like a dozen moths in his stomach. He was only comforted by the notion that they were going to save Sarah. Despite all fears, he felt that they would succeed, that they would help his dearest friend. "Sarah..." he moaned as he continued on, hoping deep down that somehow she could hear him.  
  
He started to notice movement out of the corner of his eye. He slowly moved the fur from his eyes to see better. He stopped as little faeries began to emerge from the mists, glowing brightly, and barely finding form. Their translucent wings seemed to come in and out of reality as they danced about his head. They smiled down at him, and some brushed softly against his fur. He smiled sweetly and awkawardly, feeling that they were close to him, innocent and curious.  
  
"Ludo," they coaxed. "Sweet Ludo, do not be afraid."  
  
"Ludo scared. Mists dark," he said quietly, almost afraid of running them away by speaking too loudly.  
  
"Then we shall light the way," the faeries offered.  
  
Ludo seemed uncertain, despite the seeming innocence of the beautiful sprites. "Sage say Mists bad place."  
  
The faeries nudged him on. "No, Ludo, not for one as innocent as you. Your heart is true. You shall find what you seek. We will show you the way. Do not be frightened sweet Ludo."  
  
His fear subsided. He followed the little sprites as they pushed him on, twirling forward, lighting a path with twinkling brilliance reminiscent of the nighttime stars.  
  
"Pretty," Ludo said quietly, amazed by the beauty before him. The Mists seemed to separate before him, and the sky could be seen overhead, sharp and clear. The beast tilted his head back to marvel at its beauty. The faeries smiled down upon him.  
  
Benedick hadn't traveled far before he was challenged by the dark powers of the Mists.  
  
A mere ten yards had planted him firmly into a small, but deep, lake.  
  
"Blast it all!" he shouted, flaily about as he suddenly realized that he could not swim. "Where in Hades did... the lake... come from?" he managed to sputter out as he made repeated attempts at keeping his head above water. His head was sopping weat, and his whiskers made a brave attempt at continuing to look dignified. They could not possibly hope to succeed in light of his lack of swimming abilities. During his brief moments above water, he could swear that he heard little faery voices chittering in the distance.  
  
Suddenly he heard something plop in the water. It was floating, so he instinctively grabbed onto it, rising above the water, and gasping for air. The object cried, "Heyas, I gotta breathe too! Be careful whicha way you spin, me, ay?" He looked down at his flotation device, and quickly realized he was holding on the Eepwot's head.  
  
He hacked up some water and finally said, feeling completely without grace thanks to his current condition, "Lost your head, eh?"  
  
Eepwot's brow darkened and he gave Benedick a look as if to say, "What do you think?"  
  
"I'd say," Benedick hacked, "that's the first time a fiery losing his head was ever... an event to celebrate."  
  
"Hey, man-cat, quit yer philosophy and get us outta here, huh?"  
  
"Right, right, couldn't agree more," Benedick managed, doing his best to dog-paddle over to the lake's shore. Sage was waiting at the edge to help him out. Eepwot's body stumbled out of the depths behind him, eagerly searching for its head.  
  
"Ah, Sage, so kind of you," Benedick said as the elf helped him out. He tried hard to ignore Sage's amusement over the matter. "Hope you fared better than I did. Does this mean we passed?"  
  
Sage smiled at his very wet feline friend. "I don't know what it means, my friend. Nothing is happening as I expected."  
  
Benedick handed Eepwot his head, after which the fiery eagerly returned it to its rightful place, turning it a bit to the left to make sure it was screwed on tightly enough. "Blast it all, them faeries know how a fiery hates to lose his head for good! Knocked it clean off, they did, and the buggers laughed all the way!"  
  
Benedick snorted. Water came out of his nose. "How embarrassing," he mumbled, licking his paw and wiping it over his face once, before realizing the futility of such an action.  
  
Sage suddenly seemed concerned. "Wait - where is Ludo? And Mandelbrot?"  
  
"Oh my, they couldn't have gotten lost in the Mists, could they?" Benedick asked, quickly forgetting the mortification he had been feeling earlier over his situation.  
  
"I don't know," Sage said, the worry on his face deepening.  
  
They all looked around expectantly, but didn't have to wait long.  
  
Mandelbrot entered from the left, holding his staff before him. "Ah, there you fellows are! What a pleasant journey this has been!" he exclaimed.  
  
Benedick merely raised a very wet brow.  
  
"Ah, maybe not for all of us..." the sorcerer corrected. "However, I think things are looking up for us. A very kind faery told me where to find Kaleb's castle. And that we would be meeting someone there."  
  
Before they had a chance to react to the sorcerer's news, Ludo sauntered slowly from the forests, with Sarah and Granen in tow.  
  
"Ludo find Sarah," he announced, smiling. "Faeries Ludo friends." 


	30. Chapter 29: Woven

CHAPTER XXIX: Woven  
  
Sarah entered Kaleb's chamber with a confident stride, her head tilted down, just low enough to enhance the evil glare that shadowed her eyes. A smirk played on her lips.  
  
Kaleb looked her over with unconcealed lust. Her clothes had changed with her mood; she wore a long black shirt of rayon that hung well below her knees, and fell from the waist down in shreds and tassles. The collar rose high around her chin and flayed out, the opening coming midway down her busom. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and her right wrist was decorated by a large, ostentatious bracelet made of feathers and rings of tarnished silver. Her loose-fitting pants touched the ground, leaving only the forefront of her sandaled feet exposed.  
  
"I see you've taken a fancy to making a fashion statement with each appearance," Kaleb mused. "Fickle tastes suit you."  
  
She seemed to ignore him, and closed in seductively, brushing her fingers over his shoulders as she circled him. Her dark eyes did not leave the amethyst shard that hung from his neck.  
  
"What is it, dear Sarah?" Kaleb asked. "Looking for a bit of evening entertainment?" He firmly planted his hand on her breast, and added in a breathy whisper, "We can arrange an excursion."  
  
She seemed to smile in approval, but there was a bit of something else mirrored in her eyes. She faced him frontally, and forcefully jerked his slender hand from her busom. Her eyes squinted purposefully. She ripped the amethyst from his neck.  
  
He seemed taken aback, but did his best not to bely the true level of the anxiety that overcame him. "What's this? A little case of betrayal?" He smirked as if it was a game.  
  
She smiled more broadly, her eyelashes curling evilly over her lids.  
  
"You know the shard is useless to you without the rest of the amethyst. Or without me for that matter."  
  
"Is that so?" she asked, challengingly. "I think you've been lying to me. I think perhaps you might have overestimated your control over this situation, Kaleb. And your control over me."  
  
"It does not matter, Sarah," he said, becoming deathly serious. "You will never find the remainder of the Amethyst. I have hidden it well. Unlike you did." He smiled at her as if he were the cat and she the mouse. Her mouth curved up at the left corner.  
  
Sarah looked very much like the feline in this situation.  
  
"Hmm..." she hummed. A haunting tune began to escape her lips as she made a journey towards the door to welcome the entrance of Claw. Her hips swayed subtly.  
  
Claw entered, holding the remainder of the amethyst.  
  
Kaleb's eyes widened in a complete loss of emotional control.  
  
Sarah grinned. "What's this? Perhaps Kaleb is week without Jareth? Perhaps he is nothing of concern."  
  
"Impossible," Kaleb muttered, never pulling his eyes from the amethyst in Claw's wings.  
  
"Quite possible," Sarah replied, cocking her head to the side. "More than that, quite real. This is no illusion, Kaleb." She paused to let the concept sink in. "I am more powerful than you." She bounced her head about in a fashion reminiscent of a happy-go-lucky cheerleader and said in a perky voice, "Don't you just hate that?" She laughed wickedly as she exited the room.  
  
Before he left behind her, Claw said, "Sorry Kaleb. Nothing personal."  
  
Kaleb looked as if he were about to explode. He screamed and began a very purposeful and brisk walk in their direction, only to smash into an invisible force field. He swept his hand through the air in an attempt to cast a rudimentary spell to break the field, to no avail. "No!" he shouted. "This cannot be! My powers! All gone!"  
  
Sarah's laugh echoed throughout the castle. Before she and Claw exited the premises for good, Kaleb grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into the ground, where it lost all it's form due to the loss of the magic that created it, and did nothing more than disappear in a twirl of glittery fire.  
  
"You bitch! I'm going to kill you!"  
  
  
  
Elsewhere in the castle, Hoggle, Isabelle, and Vindar materialized in the now very plain and undecorated throne room. They were immediately greated by an anxious Eberon, decked in clown's face paint.  
  
Vindar rushed to the king's side and shouted, "Eberon! Lord, are you well?"  
  
Eberon didn't seem to recognize Vindar, and was mumbling insanities under his breath. "So sorry, didn't mean to, didn't mean it, really, really, really!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Oh dear, I think he's lost his wits," Vindar announced to the others.  
  
Suddenly Eberon looked up at them, like a man just waking up from a very bad dream. His eyes were wide with new wonder. "She's gone. She's left."  
  
"Who, King Eberon?" Isabelle asked, bending down to wipe the face paint from Eberon's face with the end of her dress.  
  
He looked at her, still struck with fear. "Sarah. She's left. Just now. Mother earth, the torment is over!" He cried tears of joy and gripped firmly Vindar's hand. He peered deeply into the boy's eyes. "I'm so sorry, lad. I am so sorry for what I did to your parents. I vow that I shall spend my life trying to amend it!"  
  
Vindar looked at Hoggle and Isabelle, his own face showing complete awe over Eberon's condition, and his strange confession and apology.  
  
"What's happened to'im?" Hoggle asked.  
  
Eberon looked about, like a man possessed. "She was in my mind. She is so powerful... But I am free, now that she has left. My cage disappeared moments before you came."  
  
"Sarah?" Isabelle said. "Sarah was in your mind?" She was in utter disbelief.  
  
"Yes!" Eberon screamed. "In my mind... she played so many things, the images of what passed when I exiled your father and ordered that your mother be sent into limbo, all of the cruel things I have ever done... And how my victims anguished at my orders. It was... too horrible to describe!"  
  
Vindar helped Eberon rise. "Then what the Hiddlebury's said must be correct. Sarah has split, and her darker side has some kind of plan. Where did she go, Eberon?"  
  
"I don't know... I only felt her presence vanish. All I know is that she was seeking the power of the amethyst. She made me tell her..."  
  
"What?" Vindar demanded. "What did she make you tell her?"  
  
"Oh, earth Mother, it is horrid. She must have it. This spells certain doom for the Underground."  
  
Vindar shook the man, for he was mumbling incromphensibly. "What did you tell her!?"  
  
Eberon looked up at Vindar, his eyes mirroring a great fear. "She is the only one who can control the full power of the Amethyst, Vindar. Kaleb never had full control over the amethyst. But Sarah does. And she can do anything."  
  
Vindar gazed into his eyes, fully digesting what the king told him. "So what Kaleb has done is mere child's play in comparison."  
  
"A pebble in a vast lake," Eberon added.  
  
"Oh no!" Isabelle exclaimed.  
  
"This ain't good," Hoggle mumbled, pulling out the talisman and eyeing it. "What're we gonna do? We can't harm'er, but what if we gots to?"  
  
Suddenly the castle began to waver and sway. "Uh oh," Vindar mumbled. "We have to get to it. The magic that makes this castle is losing its composition. We have to find Kaleb, and quick." He looked to Eberon. "Where is he?"  
  
Eberon pointedto the hallway, and quickly led them to Kaleb's chamber. Once they all arrived, Vindar stepped into the room. Kaleb was huddled in a mass at the center of the room. He looked up suddenly when he saw them approach, much as a caged animal would a potential predator.  
  
"You!" Kaleb spat at the sight of Eberon. "I order you to get me out of this!"  
  
"Never," Eberon replied with a dark chuckle, in what he obviously saw as a grand joke.  
  
"But we might have'ta get'im out," Hoggle said. "We needs'im."  
  
"Yes, for once Higgle is being sensible. Do as he says."  
  
Hoggle merely gave him a dirty look. "So's it was yous who couldn't remember my name," Hoggle said disdainfully.  
  
"Hoggle's right," Vindar said.  
  
"But what about his powers!?" Isabelle exclaimed. "We're defenseless against him!"  
  
Vindar touched the force field, then stepped back to analyze the situation. "It seems this force field not only cages him, but I am guessing it quells the power he has remaining. If we were to let him out, he would probably regain his powers."  
  
Kaleb seemed to smile at this new information. But everyone was too preoccupied to catch a glimpse of his newfound mirth.  
  
Vindar held his hand out to Hoggle. "Hoggle, give me the talisman." Hoggle placed it into his slender hand. The elf turned it over and looked at the runes carefully. "First things first," he said, a determined expression on his face.  
  
Vindar chanted the runes on the back, then held the talisman out before him, facing it toward Kaleb. A black stream of smoky light emanated from the raven at the center, and engulfed the unprepared Kaleb. Within moments, the smoke drifted away, and a single black feather floated to the ground where the man once stood.  
  
"I like this toy!" Vindar exclaimed, tossing the talisman up playfully and catching it again. He put it back into Hoggle's hand, after which Hoggle dutifully put it back into his pocket.  
  
"Sure is a useful trinket," Hoggle agreed.  
  
"What about the force field?" Isabelle asked.  
  
Vindar walked forth and picked up the feather without incident. "It's gone. No one left to guard." He smiled triumphantly. But his joy did not last long. The castle was quickly disintegrating.  
  
"We must leave!" Eberon exclaimed. "But there are no doors in this confounded place!"  
  
"How will we get out?" Isabelle asked worriedly.  
  
"Easy," Vindar answered. "We have to go to the first room that was created. It's the only place that actually touches real ground. Of course the question is, which was the first room to be created?"  
  
"I think I might know," Eberon said. "Follow me."  
  
The group followed the elf king down melting corridors, into a circular staircase that spiraled up and down. Down and down they went, until they finally reached the very bottom. Around the staircase, there was a circularly shaped room, whose walls were phasing in and out of reality.  
  
"We can wait here," Eberon said. "It seems that the castle has nearly dissipated."  
  
Quickly the walls became a sort of glittery mush that transformed into a sparkling fire, swiling into the air and evaporating, leaving the small group stranded in the middle of a clearing at the very center of the Mists of Dreams. They looked around and found themselves at the heart of a large circle of power, inscribed with ancient runes. The staircase had been the very center of the fortress, from which all power had emanated.  
  
"Would you look at that?" Vindar said, stepping gingerly from his place at the center of the circle. "I haven't ever seen a circle of power of this size."  
  
"Just great, we's in the very center of the Mists. What're we gonna do?" Hoggle said in exasperation.  
  
"Have a party!" a voice cried from the depths of the forest. Everyone turned around to find that the source of the exclamation was Eepwot, the unofficial king of the fieries. He was standing next to Mandelbrot, and behind them walked Sarah, Granen, Sage, Benedick, and Ludo.  
  
Ludo saw Isabelle and cried joyfully, "Little Sarah!" Isabelle ran to give the great beast a hug, quickly running to Sarah. "You're alright!" she cried, as the others exchanged hugs as well.  
  
Sarah gave her a wan smile. "Not completely. I'm not quite... whole," she corrected.  
  
"Um, Sage my friend, I would not want to split hairs at a time like this, considering we were lucky enough to find the new additions to our party..." Benedick said, rubbing his furry goatee, "but... where's the blasted castle?"  
  
"Gone, gone, gone," Vindar replied. "Along with the other Sarah."  
  
Benedick joined the others in carefully digesting this new information. Finally he yelled, "Then what in bloody hell are we doing here?!"  
  
A large and very bright light emanated from the depths of the forest, and two tall, slender female figures emerged. Everyone had to cover their eyes to make them out.  
  
Each woman was completely in the nude, their wild hair gently teasing their skin. They did not tread the ground with feet, but with hooves, their long legs split at the center by their equine ankles. Their wings were translucent and spread out wide. They held hands as they approached the awestruck group, toads, gnomes, goblins, and mice in their wake, looking on with enchanted gazes, fighting to be close to these higher spirits.  
  
The faery women smiled down on the travelers.  
  
"Who... who are you?" Isabelle managed, looking up at the beautiful women with an unconscious smile.  
  
Sage looked at them with recognition. "I know who they are." He immediately dropped down to one knee in admiration and respect.  
  
The woman on the left bore a more mischievous smile than her sister. "Rise, Sage," she said before turning to face Isabelle. "I am Laiste, daughter of the Moon."  
  
The other, more somber woman also answered, "And I am Dorcha, daughter of Epona, Lady of the Horse and the Moon."  
  
They paused, giving the group a few moments to take them in.  
  
"These are dark times," Laiste finally said.  
  
"And also times of light," Dorcha added, looking firmly upon Sarah.  
  
"Your time is a time of ripened knowledge, plucked from the tree by unprepared and ignorant hands," Laiste sang.  
  
"Your time is a time of dark ignorance, planted in the earth and uprooted by wise and knowledgeable hands," Dorcha continued.  
  
They spread their hands out symbolically, and an image of two worlds from the side emerged, as if reflections of one another. It was Aboveground and Underground. A white dove flew in the golden sky of the land of the crystal moon, while a dark raven traveled over the green skies of the world of the brazen sun. They combined and became something twisted and gnarled, devoid of definable shape. Like tree roots warped by disease and barren earth.  
  
"Some things were meant to remain separate," Laiste said.  
  
Their voices rang clear and true in the dark night. The stars sparkled down upon the group as they all did their best to understand the riddled words of the sisters. What were the faery women trying to tell them? What was their quest?  
  
"Answers we cannot give you," Dorcha said in reply to their unspoken questions, "but the correct questions... yes, these we can point you toward."  
  
Laiste looked up as if seeing an event that none of the others could detect. "The time has come."  
  
Dorcha acknowledged her sister's announcement with a silent nod. "Then you must all follow... Come, and we will tell you what you must do."  
  
They all followed the glowing women into the very heart of the Mists, not one daring to speak.  
  
  
  
Jareth, Ashley, Toby, and Gail made it back to the magic shoppe in short order. When they entered, Marlena was talking to an older man, whose back was turned to the door. When they heard the bells jingle on the door, they both turned to look and see who had entered. Jareth stopped, dumbfounded.  
  
"Master... Jeremiah?" he said with no small amount of shock.  
  
"Jareth!" the old man cried. "There you are! Thank the stars you've returned."  
  
Ashley piped up with her usual brazenness. "An old friend?"  
  
Jareth stepped forward to shake the old man's hand, his mannerisms strangely uncomfortable. "My teacher. From my youth."  
  
Marlena stepped from behind the counter amd smiled. "Master Jeremiah has told me a great deal about you, Jareth. You were a crazy kid, as I hear it!" She chuckled warmly and crossed her arms. "How was your day out on the town?"  
  
Jareth was very distracted by his thoughts, and the appearance of his old master only added to the strangeness of the situation surrounding his return to the store.  
  
It was more than odd. It tugged at Jareth's instincts uncomfortably, assuring him further that something bad was going to happen.  
  
Jeremiah had been Jareth's master in his youth; he was also the man who cursed Jareth to be king of goblins once he had acquired the crystals. He remembered the day of his departure from this small village all too well. He had made the decision to seek out the power of the crystals, and Jeremiah had gotten wind of his intentions. He told him none too assertively that he would doom all the young man's efforts at acquiring power, should he leave before his lessons were complete. Jareth was impatient as the young are wont to be, and he had not heeded his master's warnings. Nor did he believe that the man who had been such a major force in his upbringing would dare bring any harm to him.  
  
His journey was swift, and, once he had found the crystals, his power seemed almost limitless. He pretended to be a god, and found a small city to take control over. They gave him the crown without question. He was certain from that day on he would be without worries.  
  
Until the next day came. The entire city of humans morphed into a horde of mindless goblins. He was king over goblins. And the Labyrinth built itself around him, preventing his escape. He could travel across the lands, but eternally he felt his tie to the city and its Labyrinth. Should he leave, he would be overcome by madness.  
  
And all of this, he knew, was the doing of his former Master Jeremiah.  
  
Jeremiah came forward and put a hand on Jareth's shoulder. "You know I had to do it," he said quietly, acknowledging Jareth's silent thoughts. "You understand now, don't you? You understand that it was for your own good?"  
  
Jareth surmised the man to the best ability of his distracted mind. "Why are you here?" he asked, unwilling to acknowledge or consider such a difficult question.  
  
"Something very horrible is about to happen."  
  
"Sarah?"  
  
"Yes, Sarah. But not just to her."  
  
Jeremiah looked over Jareth's shoulder and out onto the streets of New York. Everyone on the sidewalk was looking up at the sky. Jareth caught Jeremiah's gaze, and slowly found his way outside. Everyone in the shoppe followed out of curiosity.  
  
With great trepidation, Jareth scanned the sky. A large bird - a Spangore - was flying overhead, with what appeared to be a woman atop its back. Jareth instantly recognized Sarah's dark locks. A swarm of ravens flew behind her, all making a bee-line for the gigantic television screen at the center of Times Square.  
  
He inched forward, wanting to reach out to her, wanting to stop whatever was about to happen, but feeling completely powerless. "Sarah," he said under his breath.  
  
Toby looked up at Jareth, having caught his mumbling. "Sarah?" he said hopefully. "That's Sarah? Has she come to get us? She's free!"  
  
Marlena looked too, pensive. "I don't think so, Toby."  
  
"Why is she going to the t.v.?" Ashley asked Jareth, nudging him.  
  
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head lightly.  
  
"She's gonna do it," Jeremiah mumbled in disbelief. "She's actually going to do it. I wonder if it is really possible."  
  
Jareth swung about and grabbed the old man forcefully. "What is she going to do?"  
  
"Well, who knows if it will actually work..." Jeremiah said, "but I think she is going to try to meld Aboveground and Underground."  
  
"And where did you learn about this?" Jareth asked with increasing exasperation.  
  
Jeremiah gave him a knowing look. "You know as well as I do that there are always ways of obtaining information, my boy."  
  
Jareth did not wish to acknowledge the old man's condescension. All he could do was look up to the screen where the small figure of Sarah could be seen, and wait for the worst to occur.  
  
He tingled inside, and could feel the closeness of her spirit. But it was dark, and heavy with anger and evil intention. Her voice echoed quietly inside his head, uttering an incantation. Purple of the amethyst glowed in his mind, maddening and powerful.  
  
In his mind he could see her closely, as if she was projecting her image upon his inner self. She wore a fanning gown of light grey velvet, a print of ravens flying from the hem of the dress, fading out as they rose toward her busom. Her hands were held high to the sky, her mouth moving in ritual.  
  
Then her eyes moved away from the sky, and faced him, peering deep into his soul. She smiled, still chanting, yet in his mind he heard her say, "Hello my love."  
  
And that's when it happened. People grabbed their heads in shock, pain, or ecstasy. The vision came upon them. All of the screens in Times Square filled with Sarah's face, sporadically flashing images of a world they had all seen in their dreams at one time or another. The ground rippled, and Jareth and the others fought to maintain their balance. He looked at them; none of them showed any evidence of feeling the same pain as the strangers surrounding them on the sidewalk. The traffic stopped abruptly, some cars crashed into those ahead of them as their drivers lost all presence of mind. Chaos ensued.  
  
Dorcha looked down upon the brave companions who had entered the Mists, her face somber, more somber than any somberness a mere mortal could express. "The Darkness has begun. The fae have never needed mortal help so dearly as today. It is your calling to save the mortal and faery lands, before it is too late, before what has been woven can no longer be torn asunder.  
  
"We, the sisters and guardians of light and dark beseech you, Sarah, Queen of Sunset City... bring the worlds back as they were. You are the key."  
  
"What is happening?" Sarah begged, pushing forth from her position amongst the group. "What am I supposed to do?"  
  
The faery women began to drift away, almost powerless to their own dissipating forms. They seemed to be fading against their will.  
  
"Help us," they moaned, their voices becoming one with the wind.  
  
"The Guardian at the Gate will take you to where your journey begins..."  
  
As they disappeared before the eyes of the amazed group, another light grew, like a million sparks forming shape. A sliver opened up in the very air, parting like threads in a malleable fabric, opening up like a blooming flower, intense and powerful. Sarah knew immediately what she had to do.  
  
She shielded her eyes against the light, and began to step into the portal.  
  
"Sarah, wait!" Sage cried, reaching toward her. But it was too late.  
  
The elf looked at the group, and all had seemed to come to a silent acknowledgement. One by one, they climbed into the portal, transported by the magic of the being that was the Guardian of the Gate between the realms.  
  
When the light dissipated, they again found themselves in a Misty forest, greener and more substantial than the one of the Mists of Dreams.  
  
Painted, ebony faces peered at them curiously from behind the foliage.  
  
Sarah regained her composure and took in her surroundings. She quickly discerned the curious faces that took them in.  
  
"Where are we?" she whispered to herself.  
  
No one could answer. But it was definitely not Underground. Nor Above. 


	31. Chapter 30: Muppet Madness

CHAPTER XXX: Muppet Madness  
  
Leah had just been beginning to cope with the departure of Vindar, Isabelle, and Hoggle when something strange happened. Sitting on the throne that did not belong to her, she was thinking about how much she hated her life, when suddenly she found herself no longer on a plush throne, but in a leather desk chair with rolling feet. Quickly she surmised that she had been transported into an office of sorts. She looked down at the arm of the chair and saw a remote control for heating and massaging action. Suddenly struck by the whimsy of her situation, and feeling absurdly out of control over her own affairs, she decided to travel the road of her irony happily, and pushed the switch for a neck massage. Knobby things in the chair began to knead her neck. She relaxed into it while she pondered her circumstance.  
  
It was a rather goofy-looking office. There were puppets and figurines strewn about. There was also a framed picture on the desk; she picked it up to analyze it.  
  
It was a photograph of Jim Henson. She'd recognize it anywhere. "Hmm, a fan, I guess," she mumbled, trying to convince herself she had a grasp on what was happening, though she knew she did not.  
  
To confirm the fact, a muppet opened the door, holding a bunch of paperwork. The muppet was in fact Kermit the Frog. Leah's jaw dropped.  
  
"Erm, a, Missus Leah, I, uh, got some papers here for you to sign," Kermit said as he bounced over to the desk in his usual fashion.  
  
Leah bent forward to see over the desk, and realized that Kermit was in fact unmanned; he was moving quite of his own volition.  
  
That's when she realized that this day was going to be a bit much , even by her standards.  
  
"Whoever came up with this is smoking something," Leah mumbled.  
  
"Excuse me, ma'am?" Kermit asked.  
  
Leah looked at Kermit carefully, hoping that a good, long look would help her to realize she was hallucinating. Kermit just looked at her hopefully, in expectation of an answer. Leah sighed.  
  
"Nothing Kermit. Just... go get met some coffee or somethin'."  
  
"Sugar and cream?"  
  
"And morphine, too, please."  
  
Kermit worked his jaw around a bit before trotting off in search of a mind- numbing refreshment for the new CEO of the Jim Henson Company.  
  
As he walked out the door, Leah saw muppets, puppets, and animatrons of all kinds milling about purposefully, making her wonder exactly how much of reality she had been taking for granted all this time.  
  
But she knew, deep down, that the answers would not come until the sequel.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
First Draft Completed January 24, 2002 


End file.
